Episode II: Duel of the Fates
by L71
Summary: Another version of Ep 2
1. Default Chapter

NOTES: After over a year of wanting to write a Star Wars fic, I recently stumbled upon the plot I wanted.  
  
May God have mercy on us all...heheh.  
  
First, I'd like to thank my most-helpful beta readers  
  
I guess this is technically an A/A story, but there's much more-political intrigue, desperate battles, Obi-torture-a little of everything. So I hope if you like some of the latter type scenes, you won't entirely dismiss this as "just another A/A story." It isn't.  
  
And yes, there is an Episode III that follows this.  
  
I included some plot elements from known portions of the AotC storyline. I've also left many other portions out. This is not an AU. I've made considerable efforts to conform to the events expressed in the films/novelizations. At the same time, however, I know Lucas's story will no doubt be much different from mine. Consider it not an alternate universe, but a "parallel" one.  
  
Regarding the EU: I incorporated a few bits here and there from Mr. Zahn, but by and large ignored the rest of it. As I said, my research consisted mainly of the films/novelizations.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Wars or its characters. I just use them to further my own demented visions. I'm not making money off this, because I'm sure there's a much more "productive" way of spending my time than writing fanfic, but this is much more fun.  
  
Comments/speculation/feedback/etc. are ALWAYS welcome. Also, if you find yourself enjoying this fic, don't hesitate to inform your friends. I'm not an egomaniac, but I'd like to think if this is a good story, it won't go unnoticed.  
  
And now, as my favorite Sith once put it, I will "dispense with the pleasantries" and get on with the story.  
  
  
  
Star Wars  
  
Episode II: Duel of the Fates  
  
Chapter I: Old Friends, New Enemies  
  
"Sithspawn!" Rai Aks cursed. The familiar sight of hyperspace travel in the small transport's cockpit windows abruptly resolved into starlines, which converged into individual points of light.  
  
"Looks like there's something wrong with the hyperdrive," he said to his copilot, a Lieutenant. "And something tells me we'll catch Kessel for this. I don't think the Senator's in a very patient mood."  
  
The Gran's eyestalks scanned various instruments, coming to rest on the hyperdrive monitor. All of the status readouts were a cheerful green except the hyperspace motivator's indicator light, which was glowing red.  
  
Rai stifled an upcoming curse. "Motivator's out. See what you can find on the nav display."  
  
The Lieutenant brought up the charts for their current position, then muttered something unintelligible under his breath. "Looks like we're in the middle of nowhere, Sir. No inhabited planets in sublight range."  
  
"Wonderful Just wonderful," Rai grumbled. "Looks like we're going to have to do this ourselves. You go back there and tell the Senator that he'd better inform the Budget Committee he's going to be late. Then take the 'droids and see what you can do with the motivator. I'm going to stay here and keep an eye on the sensors."  
  
His copilot rose from his seat, exiting the cockpit and entering the cabin occupied by Senator Aks Moe of Malastare.  
  
"What's going on here?" the Senator fumed. "I felt us drop into realspace, and there's no way I can put my tax reform amendment in Chairman Antilles' bill if I miss this meeting!" He paused momentarily, then resumed his outburst. "When I get back I'm going to have a very long chat with Lieutenant Rees and his maintenance crew…"  
  
To his credit, the Lieutenant stood up to the politician's notorious temper rather well. "I'm sorry, Senator, but our hyperdrive motivator is offline, and there's nowhere close we can pull into for repairs. I'm going to see if I can get the blasted thing fixed. You should probably tell Coruscant we're stuck for the time being."  
  
"Very well," Moe conceded, turning to his aide. "You heard the Lieutenant. Tell Coruscant we're having problems with our ship."  
  
***  
  
Several minutes passed. The hyperdrive motivator had overheated, and the Lieutenant managed to locate a spare core in the ship's limited stash of emergency replacement components.  
  
In the cockpit, Rai noticed a new contact appear on his sensor readout. He tapped his comlink to his copilot. "Contact, Lieutenant, bearing 241, just reverting to realspace. Maybe we can get some help installing that core."  
  
However, when he glanced back to the sensors, he felt his breath stop in his throat.  
  
The identification screen showed the new contact was a warship, about the size of a light cruiser.  
  
But it was unlike any light cruiser Captain Rai Aks had ever seen, in all his years of piloting.  
  
The contact's hull shape was angular, menacing. Sloping nose of interconnecting planar surfaces. Square-shaped midsection, joined to stubby, swept wing like structures. Each "wing" had large turbolaser mounts protruding from the tip. More turbolaser barrels protruded from the underside of the nose. In the rear, five large engine nozzles were visible, arranged in a star pattern. Even more puzzling, the ship showed no military or civilian insignia of any kind.  
  
Unmarked, but for one vaguely disturbing feature-every single square centimeter of the hull was painted a fearsome blood-red.  
  
"Lieutenant," he said into the comlink, his voice shaky, "you'd better get up here. I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
Maybe I am overreacting, he thought. I shouldn't assume his intentions are hostile.  
  
The copilot came rushing through the cockpit entry door and began strapping himself back into his seat. "Captain, there's no way I can get that melted core out of the motivator in anything less than half an hour…" His voice trailed off as his gaze went to the contact display.  
  
"Should we try transmitting?" he offered. "Maybe it's some experimental vessel on a test run." Neither his tone nor his appearance, however, gave any sense of reassurance.  
  
Rai flipped the external com emitter.  
  
"Unknown vessel, this is Republic Senate transport ship 119-0071. Please identify yourself."  
  
No response.  
  
Rai sent the message a second time.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Unknown vessel, under the Galactic Code of Celestial Navigation, you are obligated to identify yourself to a Republic Officer. Do you acknowledge?"  
  
Still no response.  
  
"Sir," the copilot yelled, "enemy vessel is powering up shields and weapons!"  
  
"Sith!" Rai swore again. The Senatorial transport was designed for comfort, respectable speed, and reliability, not combat. The shields were good against occasional asteroid strikes or sudden radiation flares, but little else. The two small turbolasers the ship carried would have no effect on anything larger than a starfighter, he knew.  
  
No one had attacked a Senate vessel in two hundred years, he remembered. Why now?  
  
"We can't fight, we can't go to hyperspace, but maybe we can run. Go to full power on all engines, I'm going to try to send out a distress call."  
  
The ship shuddered with the sudden application of increased power, as Rai once again manned the com unit, this time keying in the emergency transmit channel frequency.  
  
"Emergency, emergency, Senate Vessel 119-0071, am being pursued by hostile unknown vessel, under attack, repeat, under attack…."  
  
The entire ship slammed upwards and sideways simultaneously. Rai was thrown against the overhead instrument panel, temporarily stunned. His hand had slipped off the transmit switch. "Damage report?" he barked.  
  
"Captain, we've just taken hits to the number two engine. Aft shields are down to 5 percent, and that ship's still clos…"  
  
The occupants of the shuttle were dead before they realized what happened. A turbolaser shot from the red warship had penetrated the aft cabin bulkhead, instantly depressurizing the vessel. A fraction of a second later, another turbolaser round reached an exposed fuel cell in the central engine pod. The Transport vanished in a spectacular blast.  
  
Its killer adjusted course slightly, disappearing into hyperspace as mysteriously as it arrived.  
  
**  
  
  
  
Val'ri was having a busy day, even for one who monitored communications to and from the Senate building. Today was the day of the monthly meeting of the Senate Budget Committee, and no doubt, planetary and system governments were making urgent requests and demands for information from their Senatorial representatives. Millions of projects, from renovation of the third floor balcony of Alderaan's embassy building, to the small Republic Fleet's upcoming starfighter procurement contracts were at stake, and everyone was naturally demanding a piece of a rather finite pie.  
  
She was snapped from her momentarily straying thoughts when, suddenly, one of the emergency monitoring relay indicators flashed a red and yellow pattern.  
  
Flashing red and yellow was the code reserved only for Republic Senators in distress.  
  
She rapidly switched the com to the proper channel. "This is Comm Central, report."  
  
"Central," came a voice, anything but calm and professional, "incoming transmission from Senate transport 0071, priority 1!"  
  
Priority 1 was only assigned to messages used in time of imminent attack or during wartime.  
  
"Copy, relay station 71, duplicate and then transmit to Fleet Headquarters at once!" Val'ri ordered.  
  
"Emergency frequencies? Priority 1 clearance? What in Kessel is going on?" she asked her display monitors.  
  
"I don't care," Admiral Rik Haas of the Republic Fleet roared at the holovid screen. "Major, it is ridiculous to expect me to effectively defend a third of the outer rim with only a single undersized fleet! My starfighter maintenance crews are reduced to scavenging from salvaged wrecks just to keep their crates out of the hangar long enough to clean out the mynocks in their engine nacelles! Now I don't care what you have to do, but you tell those credit-pinching nerf herders in the Budget committee to pull their…"  
  
Suddenly, a young Lieutenant, a courier, bolted into the room, panting from the exertion of running the five flights of stairs that separated the Admiral's office from the communications room.  
  
Of course, Haas was not surprised that the fleet could scarcely allocate enough credits to pay for repairing the balky turbolifts. Just another item on a long list of grievances against the Senate.  
  
"WHAT?" Haas roared, furious that the young officer would interrupt his tirade. Delivery of a good tongue-lashing was a prerogative of rank that Haas held dearly.  
  
"Admiral, Communications received a relay message from Comm Central in the Senate building. Senator Aks Moe of Malastare sent an emergency transmission that his vessel was being attacked!"  
  
"What?" Haas asked him as he jumped to his feet. He nearly ran for the Operations Room, simultaneously barking orders to be relayed.  
  
"Get me the Supreme Chancellor's office online NOW!! And for Force sake, put all units on alert!"  
  
**  
  
The room, like all those in the lower depths of Coruscant, had not seen light in at least a millennia. The omnipresent vertical migration of the city populace left the lowermost levels in abandoned disrepair. As nature abhors a vacuum, many dark and fearsome inhabitants had reclaimed the abandoned depths of the city. Little else about the shadowy, malevolent invaders was known, and few had any desire to investigate.  
  
No being of good reputation, regardless of species, would venture to such depths, and a brave warrior would not have been thought a coward by his comrades for refusing to do so. To visit the lowermost levels of Coruscant and return intact was the domain of a creature possessing either great malice of his own, or highly formidable powers.  
  
Darth Sidious, however, was precisely that sort of being, and had little to fear in such a region. Places of darkness, mystery, and evil were his preferred environment, and they served as an ideal secret base of operations.  
  
Operations that were once again moving, in the eternal patience of the subtlety of a Sith. He was entirely undaunted by the defeat of the Federation army at Naboo, for the invasion was merely a means to the main objective, which had been accomplished. The loss of Maul, even, proved to be only a minor setback, for it was by indirect means that the next phase of his plan was to proceed. Ever the opportunist, he realized that the outcome of the Battle of Naboo in fact worked to his advantage.  
  
Qui-Gon Jinn, a formidable Jedi and powerful enemy, was dead. Sidious' own identity had not been compromised, and the Trade Federation viceroy, now out of prison and howling for revenge on the Naboo, was providing all the financial support the operation required. But most importantly, Palpatine was now the Supreme Chancellor.  
  
His musing was interrupted by the realization that he had an important transmission to send. He made way to the holoprojector in the center of the room and his pale hand emerged to flip the transmission switch.  
  
The translucent blue form of another robed figure materialized near the holoprojector. The image belonged to Sidious' new apprentice, Darth Raptor.  
  
Raptor was humanoid, of medium height , and the robes concealed a lean but muscular body honed to perfection by untold hours of strenuous practice. His blue skin and glowing red eyes, menacing beneath the shadows of his hood, marked him as a Chiss.  
  
"What is thy bidding, my master?" the hologram spoke from its kneeling posture.  
  
"You are to go to Wayland. There, you will meet with our contact Jango Fett and our friend, the Viceroy."  
  
"Yes, Master." Sidious ended the transmission, and Raptor's form vanished, plunging the room back into darkness.  
  
Sidious returned to his thoughts. The overwhelming sense of his coming destiny proved difficult to contain. After meticulous, impeccably subtle maneuvering, the pieces were now in their assigned places. The sense of dark power and destiny surged through him, like an unrelenting tidal wave swallowing up all in its destructive path towards the entirely unsuspecting shoreline. 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:  
  
I have decided to post this (for now) as post-by-post format, corresponding to how the story has been published at the JC forums, rather than combining the posts into the proper "chapters" I had originally laid out. The upside of this is that I can update more frequently.  
  
-Tim  
  
Also, belated thanks to Regina Hilburn, who was of immense help during the original formation of the plot.  
  
  
  
  
  
News of the Senator's disappearance had spread like wildfire throughout the Galaxy. Reaction in the Senate itself evolved from shock, to panic, and finally to heated fury. Speculation as to the perpetrators ran wild. Rumors were everywhere, soon to multiply and take on lives of their own. The public, like their representatives, were screaming for action. All eyes were turned towards the same man, Chancellor Palpatine.  
  
Palpatine had convened a special session of the Senate, declaring a state of emergency. The military was mobilized, investigative committees appointed, and protective measures were being taken at this very moment.  
  
As a result, a hologram of the Supreme Chancellor now stood in the center of the Council Chambers in the Jedi Temple.  
  
"…as you are aware, I am committed to doing everything within my power to protect the integrity of the Republic. I have instructed all of our intelligence and investigative agencies to use all available resources to track down those who committed this horrible act. I come before you because once again, the Republic requires your assistance. By the power vested in me by the Senate and the Citizens of the Republic, I hereby invoke Article 5 of the Constitution, and call upon the Jedi to help protect the members of the Senate from further attacks. I have prepared a list of Senators with similar political affiliations to Aks Moe, which I will deliver to you shortly."  
  
"We assure you, Chancellor Palpatine, that the Jedi shall do everything in our power to protect the Senate," Mace Windu answered.  
  
"Excellent. I beg your pardon, Masters, but I must take your leave in preparation for a press conference."  
  
"This is a most strange development," remarked Ki-Adi-Mundi. "We must respond to the Chancellor's command, but we cannot neglect our other duties. So, I ask you, who do we send?"  
  
*******  
  
On the main continent of the unpopulated planet Wayland, the imposing bulk of Mount Tantiss rose above the dense forest. Near the base of the mountain on its southwest facing, the forest had been cleared in a kilometer-wide circle, making room for what appeared to be an insignificant outpost. A stout bunker occupied the circle's center, and gray-clad soldiers, in body armor and full helmets, holding blaster carbines at the ready, paced the perimeter and stood sentry duty near the bunker itself. Other squads of soldiers could be observed coming and going from the treeline, patrolling in a wider radius. The only other installation visible was a landing pad, and a small shuttlecraft of Nemoidian origin sat off to the side.  
  
A Sith infiltrator streaked into view and came to a graceful hover over the pad. Repulsorlifts whining, it deployed its landing gear and settled gently to the ground. The ship's exit ramp lowered, and out of the billowing clouds of compressed gas stepped the shrouded figure of Darth Raptor.  
  
An officer with a General's patch on his shoulders, his aide, and former Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray stood waiting for him.  
  
"Lord Raptor," greeted the General, "I am Jango Fett. Welcome to Spaarti. Come with me, and I will show you our operation."  
  
Entering the bunker, the Nemoidians and the General stepped onto a turbolift, which descended to the heart of the installation, deep within the mountain's massive bulk. Their destination was a gigantic room, capable of holding several Dreadnaught-class warships in its cavernous interior. Instead, it was packed with row upon row of cylinders.  
  
Each cylinder was roughly two meters tall and half a meter wide. They were constructed of transparisteel, and were filled with a fluid that looked somewhat like bacta, except it was much more opaque and hid the contents of the cylinder from view. Each cylinder rested on a massive base structure, which connected to the bases of those adjacent. Banks of monitors, dials, and viewscreens completed the assembly. The room was heavily guarded, monitored by holocams, and medical officers and droids walked the mysterious rows, checking readouts.  
  
"What we have here, gentlemen," Fett announced, "is the Galaxy's first viable cloning facility."  
  
"Cloning technology, General?" Gunray was astonished. The Federation had looked into cloned soldiers decades ago, but the experiments all ended in horrible failure.  
  
"This is the main production chamber, but is ,in fact, only a small part of the entire facility. In addition, we have barracks for the men, indoor training facilities, our own reactor core for power, and storage for weapons and equipment. We are capable of supporting approximately two hundred thousand soldiers. One hundred thousand cloning cylinders are in this room. The current group is in fact our second production run."  
  
"How long does it take one of your clones to complete the maturation process?"  
  
"A year, at the moment. But we believe we can cut it down to nine months. The current batch of clone warriors will be ready to assume full combat duties in the next month, with a next batch following. We have also taken to cloning naval officers and crewmen, as well as star pilots. Each specimen was selected for strength, endurance, and intelligence, and from all ranks, are the best of the breed. In addition, we have produced a new form of armored suit that you will have seen being used by our guards here and which I am wearing now. The armor itself is 20 percent stronger against blasters than anything currently in use. At this very moment, under the Republic's nose, we have an entire army awaiting deployment." 


	3. Chapter 3

Obi Wan strode alone down the silent halls of the Jedi Temple, headed for Master Windu's chambers to be informed of his new mission. He also assumed Mace would likely ask about the training of his Padawan, which was his usual custom.  
  
Some had thought it odd indeed, that the possible Chosen One would be entrusted to Kenobi, least of all Obi-Wan himself. The death of his Master, his promotion to Knight, and his receiving a new Padawan had all taken place in only a few days. Obi-Wan was not a man to shy from his duty to the Jedi Order, but at the time he felt he was entirely unready.  
  
A month later, he had approached Yoda with his concerns.  
  
"Learn together, you will," the diminutive Master had said. "Move beyond your Master's death, you must. A great Jedi, you shall be."  
  
Anakin had indeed proven a handful, but Obi-Wan was often astonished at how strongly the Force was with him. Despite his late introduction into the Jedi training, he progressed at an utterly astonishing rate.  
  
It had not been a painless journey, however. Anakin at once aroused suspicion and envy among his peers- he was proclaimed to be not only "special," but had never had to struggle through the initiate phase, instead getting automatically apprenticed to a Master who had defeated a Sith, no less. Therefore, Anakin tended to keep to himself most of the time, obsessively tinkering with any mechanical device in sight. Otherwise, his sensitive and passionate nature would get him into fights with other Padawans.  
  
As for Obi Wan, great things were predicted of him. Some speculated if he would eventually join the Council, and few could pose any serious objection as to his suitability.  
  
Obi Wan's mind, however, did not dwell on rumor or speculation. His thoughts were entirely on the coming mission as he arrived at the entrance to Master Windu's chambers.  
  
"Hello, Knight Kenobi," Windu greeted him, motioning Obi Wan inside the office.  
  
"The Council has an assignment for Anakin and I? I suppose it would perhaps be related to Chancellor Palpatine's proclamation?"  
  
"Your intuition serves you well. You and Anakin are to report to the Senate Building tomorrow morning. You will meet with General DeVries of the Guards, and he will assign you to your Senator. May the Force be with you."  
  
Obi Wan bowed from the waist and exited the room.  
  
Anakin was not hard to find, he knew, as he entered the large vehicle maintenance hangar on the Temple's ground floor. Anakin had recently managed to charm his way into the Temple's motor pool staff, and spent most of his idle time with a hydrospanner in hand. He consistently amazed his supervisor, Master Rendi, with the ability to fix anything, usually improving performance by a few percent in the process.  
  
Kenobi spied him underneath a rather decrepid looking speeder, two long legs clad in mechanic's coveralls protruded from under the starboard wing. "Anakin?" he said, getting his attention over the sound of tools and machinery.  
  
A hand came into view, setting a macrofuser down next to an array of tools lying at the speeder's side. Anakin Skywalker pushed himself out from underneath the speeder's body, rising to his full 2 meter height.  
  
"Yes, Master?"  
  
"We've been assigned to the Senate, Anakin. We leave tomorrow morning, so get your things in order."  
  
***  
  
Fett had taken his two guests to the fringes of a stretch of open grassland. They stopped along the edge of the treeline, and Fett passed each of the other men a pair of binoculars.  
  
"It is time for a demonstration of what my men are capable of," he said.  
  
A cluster of buildings, approximating a stretch of city block, stood incongruously in the middle of the field a few hundred meters away. The architecture was elaborate, classical in nature, with ornate columned and domed construction, adorned with statuary, and clearly did not belong to whatever primitive sentients may have once existed on the planet.  
  
"Now," Fett pronounced, glancing at his chrono.  
  
Behind them, the distant rumbling grew to a deafening roar as the assault shuttle thundered overhead, mere meters from the top of the forest canopy. It streaked toward the small group of structures and as it came closer, the nose pitched upward, the ship slowed to a hover, and the landing gear came down. It descended adjacent to the largest building in the middle of the street.  
  
The observers raised their binoculars to watch the exercise.  
  
The shuttle's landing ramp was already extending when it began the landing flare. Once the ship had touched down, a squad of soldiers dashed from the cabin, fanning out to cover a perimiter around the shuttle. Carbines at the ready, they began firing the instant they reached their assigned positions, designed to make anyone in the vicinity scramble for cover. The rest of the platoon followed, splitting further into two squads which rushed into the buildings adjacent to the larger structure, and the other squad headed for the building's entranceway.  
  
A cutting torch ripped through the hinges of the durasteel blast door, and two men took position on either side of the doorway, pouring blaster fire inside the entrance. The rest of the squad rushed inside, heading up the stairway to the top floor, toward a replica of a control room with a power generator at its center. A soldier attatched thermal detonators to the generator's surface and armed them, while his comerades covered the doorways. When the last explosive was armed, the men rapidly reversed course, leaving the building and heading for the shuttle.  
  
The rest of the platoon did the same, small groups of men providing covering fire for their escape. The perimiter guards were the last to pile back inside of the ship. The shuttle pilot increased power to the idling ion engines, as the ship leapt into the air and accelerated to full power. Seconds later, the thermal detonators went off, and the top half of the large building vanished in a gigantic fireball.  
  
Fett looked at his chrono again. "2 minutes, 10 seconds. Well below the nominal."  
  
"Your men are most impressive," observed Raptor. "You have trained them well."  
  
"Yes indeed," Gunray added, slowly, "but these structures seem familiar. What sort of mission training is this?"  
  
"A test of our men, and revenge against an old enemy. The building which was destroyed is an exact replica of the shield generator in the city of Theed. My Master has ordered the attack move forward with all due haste."  
  
Gunray was shocked. "But Lord Sidious promised me revenge against the Naboo!"  
  
Raptor turned to face him, his features sneering in contempt beneath the hood. Gunray could not look into the frightful red eyes. "You are an incompetent fool who was defeated by a 14 year old Queen fresh on the throne and a 9 year old slave boy ! You cost my Master an extremely well- trained apprentice. My Master expresses gratitude at your efforts, but says your service is at an end."  
  
Gunray did not see the Sith Lord reach for his lightsaber until it was far too late. 


	4. Chapter 4

Looking out the transparisteel windshield of the shuttlecraft, Admiral Rik Haas, who had seen many a warship in his day, was awestruck.  
  
The Victory, first of a new class of heavy cruiser designed to the Supreme Chancellor's own specifications, was an awesome vessel. She was a third longer than the Dreadnaught class ships, and over twice as powerful. The wedge-shaped hull made the Victory look like a giant dagger pointed directly at the heart of her enemies, and the sloping sides gave the turbolaser turrets excellent fields of fire to all directions, save the rear. Atop the hull sat terraced decks, upon which a massive bridge tower loomed near the stern.  
  
"Admiral," proclaimed the eminent naval designer, "I present you the newest weapon in the Fleet's arsenal, the Victory class Star Destroyer. Nine hundred meters long, she is armed with fifty heavy turbolaser batteries, ten tractor beam projectors, and two fighter squadrons. She can also carry a full heavy infantry battallion and transport. She is optimized for several combat roles: battleline duty, planetary invasion and support, planetary defense, and can also operate in atmosphere if necessary."  
  
"And how many of these ships have been ordered?" Haas asked.  
  
"Sixty, Sir. All are scheduled to be completed by Rendili and Kuat within the month. They are also very efficient ships, we believe. The Chancellor had a new experimental policy incorporated into the design specs; the Victories are designed for an entirely human crew regarding interface and ergonomics. We believe it will make a big difference in operational efficiency, as our current multi-species interface is something of a 'one size fits none' design."  
  
"Certainly, she is an impressive ship." Haas admitted. But deep in the back of his mind rose a nagging question:  
  
Why did Palpatine think he needed sixty of such powerful ships in service so quickly? The current threat would be handled with intelligence and investigation, not firepower  
  
That kind of production was unheard of in peacetime, and Haas felt a strange, icy sensation in the pit of his stomach.  
  
***  
  
Thousands of light years away, Darth Raptor stood on the bridge of a cruiser near an entirely different shipyard.  
  
Planet 77219 was a large uninhabited gas giant on the fringes of the Outer Rim, so unremarkable and ostensibly worthless that it had not even been attributed a proper name.  
  
Which made it the perfect place to hide a star fleet.  
  
In the space around the planet, shipyards and docks orbited like a synthetic asteroid field. As Wayland was the clandestine base for Fett's ground forces, Planet 77219 housed the Mandalorian war fleet. The first batch of clones from Spaarti had not been soldiers, but engineers, technicians, and naval construction personnel. Working constant shifts, they had built the vast complex of facilities and a fleet of 600 capital ships, along with a huge number of attendant fighters.  
  
Raptor's cruiser was one of six such vessels. The small task force had stripped the hangar bays of fighters and installed huge banks of concussion missile launchers in their place. The missiles had been modified to act as massive depth charges, as Otoh Gunga and it's inhabitants were a secondary target for the mission. A stolen civilian freigter, incongruous among the deadly warships, completed the formation.  
  
"Captain," Raptor ordered the commanding officer of his flagship Intimidator, "Set course for Naboo."  
  
***  
  
The stolen freighter waited patiently just outside of Naboo's upper atmosphere.  
  
"Freighter Nova Express, state your cargo and destination."  
  
"Theed Control, cargo is replacement power core modules for the shield generator. Standing by to transmit registration and flight plan data"  
  
"Go ahead, Express."  
  
The Mandalorian pilot flipped the "transmit" switch.  
  
"Copy that, Express, your information seems to be in order. Take approach vector 279 to the generator's landing pad, and enjoy your visit to Naboo."  
  
The pilot's lips curled into a sneer. The Naboo would have no idea that a strike force of cruisers would enter orbit around the planet only three minutes later.  
  
And by then, the shields would be down.  
  
***  
  
Anakin Skywalker was frustrated. Frustrated at Obi Wan, the Jedi, and the galaxy in general.  
  
"Here I am, Master, I've been training for eleven years, in the prime of my youth, and now I get stuck pulling guard duty to some Senator," he complained.  
  
Kenobi took his Padawan's outburst in stride. Anakin's impatience was something he was well-acquainted with.  
  
"Anakin, being a Jedi isn't always exciting, but that does not make our mission any less important. You've seen the reports of the assassination of Aks Moe. The Senate needs our help."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin acquiesced grudgingly.  
  
The transport intercom announced that they had arrived at their destination. "Now come on," Kenobi said, "let's not make a bad impression."  
  
The boarding ramp lowered to the floor of the landing pad near Coruscant's massive Senate building. A General of the Republican Guards and his aide, a young Lieutenant, stood to meet them.  
  
"Jedi Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker," the General greeted them, "Good to see you. I can't tell you how relieved my men have been since the Jedi Council offered us their help."  
  
"We are always honored to serve the Republic, however that may be, General," replied Kenobi in his usual gracious manner.  
  
"And we are honored by your service, sir. Now, if you will please come with me, I will familiarize you with your mission."  
  
The two Jedi followed the purposeful General past the door guards, to a turbolift, and to one of the many adjoining offices belonging to the various senators. Two Guards stood at the door, blaster carbines in hand. Seeing their commander flanked by the two Jedi, they presented arms in salute and stepped aside.  
  
The door slid open, revealing several figures in an involved discussion. Anakin recognized one of them as the Supreme Chancellor. Standing in front of Palpatine and to his right was a male senator, tall, slender, and dark- haired, whom Anakin did not recognize. And completing the trio was a short human female, her back turned to the door, dressed rather ornately in a style of fashion that Anakin found vaguely familiar.  
  
The man was speaking to the Chancellor. "No, we have not been able to find out any information on Alderaan, but rest assured you have our support with the upcoming proposal. We are a peaceful planet, but we understand that peace can be maintained only by the vigilant."  
  
At the entrance of the General and the Jedi, the conversation halted as the three politicians turned to meet their guests. Following the General's lead, Anakin and Kenobi bowed from the waist. Chancellor Palpatine was the first to speak.  
  
"Ahh, General DeVries, I see you have brought us the Jedi."  
  
"Yes, Chancellor Palpatine. May I present Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker."  
  
Palpatine's expression revealed pleasant surprise. "Excellent! Kenobi, young Skywalker, I trust that you have been well."  
  
"Quite fine, Chancellor," Obi Wan replied.  
  
Anakin, however, was completely oblivious to his master's conversation with Palpatine. His eyes, as well as his mind, were focused entirely on the woman he noted earlier.  
  
It was a beautiful face, a familiar face, but one he had not seen in ten long years; not in the flesh. He found himself thinking of her often, what had become of her, how she was doing. He had no time in his intensive training to contact her, and believed that an attempt to do so would be an exercise in futility. Yet somehow, he sensed that they would meet again, and she would be a powerful force in his destiny.  
  
Her large, warm brown eyes drew his gaze like a tractor beam. Gods, he thought, she is even more beautiful than I remember.  
  
Padme Neberrie, Senator from Naboo, could hardly contain her shock.  
  
Anakin? Is that really you? she asked herself in disbelief.  
  
She could not quite equate the peculiar, precocious boy she had remembered from ten years ago with tall, handsome young man standing before her in Jedi robes. So this was the strange boy who had believed she was an angel, who had made their escape from Tatooine possible, and who had somehow managed to destroy the ship controlling the droid armies that invaded her planet. The sandy blond hair was still there, though cut short in the style of the Jedi Padawan learner, his skin was still tanned from the boyhood spent braving Tatooine's scorching twin suns, as were the same powerful, liquid blue eyes that she had remembered.  
  
"Ani?!" she exclaimed in delight.  
  
Anakin, seeing her smile, felt his knees suddenly weaken and his body acquire a warm, dizzy sensation. "Padme!" he responded, regaining his powers of speech.  
  
A moment of confused awkwardness ensued between them, each unsure what to say next, yet both wanting to know so much, until Palpatine's voice interceded.  
  
"Although four of us have met before, a fifth as not, so allow me to present two of my esteemed colleagues in the Senate. Senator Bail Antilles, of Alderran," he said, indicating the young man, "and Senator Padme Naberrie of Naboo, to whom you have been assigned."  
  
Anakin could hardly believe his stroke of good fortune. His meeting with Padme would not be a fleeting encounter.  
  
***  
  
  
  
The Naboo were taken completely by surprise. The commando platoon managed to take out the stunned guards in seconds, and place the thermal detonators in the shield generator's power core facility. The chaos of the platoon opening fire in the crowded streets had generated a horde of panicked civilians fleeing the scene, and had prevented any nearby military or police units from getting close enough to interfere.  
  
"Lord Raptor," the lieutenant commanding the platoon reported, "Shield generator is down. Commence your attack."  
  
***  
  
Captain Jan Atika saw the massive explosion from his post at one of Theed's few ion cannon emplacements defending the city.  
  
He alerted Panaka's headquarters in the palace, when he saw the shuttle leap from the direction of the destroyed shield generator.  
  
"They aren't going to escape that easily," he snarled, punching in targeting data for the fleeing ship.  
  
The first two shots missed completely, but the third hit square on one of the aft engines. The shuttle began to belch smoke from the damaged engine as it headed back towards the planet's surface.  
  
He did not have much time to admire his gunnery skills. A second later, a turbolaser bolt exploded the ion cannon and several of the surrounding civilian buildings.  
  
***  
  
Inside the ship's cockpit, the pilot and his assistant struggled with the freighter's controls, trying to stabilize the damaged ship. Smoke began to fill the cockpit, and the craft waddled clumsily in the air, the Theed cityscape looming closer in the viewscreen.  
  
The Lieutenant burst through the cockpit's bulkhead door. "We've been hit?"  
  
"Ion blast. Took out the starboard engine and the rear stabilizers. We're losing altitude fast."  
  
"Lord Raptor," the Lieutenant barked into his comlink, "We're going to have to crash land. We'll see if we can cause any more damage if any of my men survive."  
  
"Very well, Lieutenant," the static-filled Sith Lord's menacing voice replied, "your orders are to hold to the last man."  
  
"Understood, sir," said the Lieutenant. Fanaticism and complete disregard for mortality had been two of the main traits drummed into the clone soldiers. The Lieutenant and his men had no fear of death.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Kenobi, as usual, was businesslike. "General, Chancellor, have you been able to find out any information about Moe's disappearance?"  
  
Palpatine nodded to the General.  
  
"We have traced the Senator's last distress message and ascertained it's location-a small section of relatively empty, uninhabited systems. We sent a vessel to the crash site but could not find any wreckage that we could use for running an analysis. The ship quite literally disintegrated from a massive internal explosion. In such a deserted area there were no witnesses or sensor records of the attacking vessel."  
  
"There is something very odd here, General," observed Obi Wan. The Jedi paused, thoughtfully, for an instant. "The Senator's ship suffered a hyperspace malfunction in the only uninhabited region along its course to Coruscant. Furthermore, its attacker arrived shortly before repairs were completed, at exactly the right location. It must have been a setup of some kind. I must report this to the Council, perhaps the Jedi can assist in the investigation as well."  
  
Palpatine picked up after Kenobi finished. "Knight Kenobi, you may tell the Council I will welcome any further assistance the Jedi can provide. General," he addressed DeVries, who looked rather ashamed that Kenobi, not himself, had been able to reach a sensible conclusion, "You are capable and you shall find out the truth in this matter. But do not wallow in perceived failure. You have done all you can."  
  
He turned to the two Jedi. "We are very grateful for the assistance of your Order, but I am afraid it is but a temporary solution. For now, the enemy holds the initiative and we can only defend against any further attacks. Now, the General will take you to your quarters and introduce you to his officers among the Guards, and get you up to speed on procedure. I am afraid we have further business to discuss here, but I look forward to hearing the news about you when we are able to meet again."  
  
"Thank you, Chancellor," Obi Wan said. "Come on, Anakin, we must accommodate ourselves to our new quarters."  
  
Just then a Guard bolted into the room, nearly knocking Anakin off his feet in the suddenly congested doorway.  
  
"Senator Naberrie, I've just received a transmission from Naboo. Theed is under attack!"  
  
Padme stood ashen for a moment, until a familiar expression of outrage and determination flashed in her features.  
  
"Ready my ship at once! Prepare to depart for Naboo!" 


	5. Chapter 5

The damaged freighter had crash landed on the roof of the Theed Records building. Just before impact, the pilot had managed to reroute all power to the still-functional shields, and the vessel's occupants, securely strapped into their seats, had survived.  
  
The lieutenant unstrapped himself from the cockpit, which was rapidly filling with suffocating gas from the fire extinguishing system. He balanced on the slanting cabin floor, and bolted through the door to the main cargo hold.  
  
"Grab your gear and heavy weapons," he ordered the men, who were already rising from their seats and charging blaster carbines. "We're going to secure and hold this building."  
  
  
  
The soldiers poured from the freighter into the damaged upper floor of the Records Center, gunning down those who had not already begun to flee in terror.  
  
***  
  
Ten minutes later, the platoon had eliminated those who had not been able to escape.  
  
The lieutenant removed a map of the city from one of his pockets, quickly determining their location from his memory of the chaotic trip down. The Records building stood alone, flanked by wide streets on each side and to front and rear. The shuttle had crashed on the top floor, the sixth, but the structural integrity of the building was not compromised, a tribute to the classically beautiful yet well-engineered Naboo architecture.  
  
His forty-man platoon consisted of four nine man squads and the tiny command staff. Each squad had a repeating blaster team of two men. He paused for a moment, staring at the map, remembering his flash-training lessons on urban combat. He mentally retrieved a lesson entitled "Defense of an occupied structure."  
  
"Send one squad to the top floor on each face. Position our repeater teams to cover the streets with riflemen in support."  
  
"Yes, sir!" the sergeant responded, snapping a parade-ground salute.  
  
The lieutenant felt confident. The wide streets gave his men superb fields of fire and they carried enough blaster packs for the repeaters to hold out for quite some time. His men would eventually be overwhelmed, but not before they had added yet another quota of death and disruption.  
  
Beneath the helmet, his face twisted into a satisfying sneer.  
  
***  
  
The corporal assigned to the South face sighted along the repeater's barrel, noting the squad of men in Palace Security uniforms hurrying to the crash site. He assumed they would not expect to find the ship's occupants still alive. They were proceeding quickly, intent on speed rather than finding cover. He knew the private beside him thought the same. His assistant gunner stood ready with a bandoleer of blaster packs for the weapon, along with those collected from the riflemen, who each carried two for the repeater.  
  
He grinned in contempt. These Naboo were soft, no match for trained warriors such as himself. He saw them break from the cover of the rubble across the street and advance into the open.  
  
The Corporal lined up the barrel of his weapon and fired a three second burst, sweeping right to left. Four of the Naboo went down hard, a fifth screamed, clutching at a leg which was no longer there. The survivors hit the ground, searching for cover where none was nearby, knowing they could never make it in time. They attempted to retreat towards a large pile of rubble, one of the men firing blindly, a futile gesture to cover the escape of his squadmates. His shots went wide of the corporal's position, and another short burst cut down the man, a second dispatching his fleeing comrades.  
  
He did not think of himself as an individual, merely a sentient component of a vast machine of destruction. He had no name, merely a numerical designation which identified his unit of other identical men. He had been bombarded with instructions on weapons, tactics, propoganda, military procedure and discipline, and nothing else. He thought of himself as the ultimate warrior, with absolute obedience and skills subliminally implanted into his brain, supplemented by rigorous training in the harsh jungle of Wayland. He knew surrender was disgrace and the ultimate expression of duty was an honorable death on the battlefield. He viewed his enemies with universal contempt.  
  
All too easy.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Amidala's former Royal Starship, graceful in form and with mirrored hull shining in the sun, stood incongruous amid the devastation.  
  
Ric Olie, the Naboo Senator, R2-D2, a quartet of Handmaidens, and the two Jedi stepped from the boarding ramp directly into Hell.  
  
Theed was in ruins.  
  
Smoke from the raging fires blackened the afternoon sky, carrying the smell of destroyed buildings, vehicles, and charred flesh throughout the city. Panicked civilians, dazed soldiers, and the less-severely wounded drifted through the shattered remains of once elegant buildings. Wrecked and burning vehicles, twisted durasteel I-beams, shards of shattered transparisteel, and chunks of permacrete clogged the streets. Even the Theed Palace itself had not escaped the destruction, its entire south façade had collapsed into a pile of rubble.  
  
The few remaining vehicles were being used by the city's police and rescue services in desperate attempts to rescue those heard trapped inside destroyed buildings.  
  
A haggard Captain Panaka in a singed, dust covered uniform, accompanied by an equally disheveled lieutenant approached the Senator and her party.  
  
"Senator Naberrie," he greeted her, in an exhausted voice.  
  
"Captain Panaka," the former Queen responded. "I heard of the attack on Coruscant and rushed here to see if I can be of any assistance." From her expression, and the strain in her voice, it was clear that the young Senator was struggling to restrain her emotions, attempting to focus on the immediate problem.  
  
"There are enemies still in the city," he said, motioning toward the group, "the streets are unsafe. Follow me and I will get you up to speed on our situation."  
  
They ran after Panaka, who ducked inside a small shop which was missing a wall.  
  
An improvised command post sat inside. Maps of the city were spread out on tables and communications equipment had been hastily set up. A few tired officers and enlisted men argued with each other or spoke into static- filled comlinks.  
  
"They hit us hard," Panaka began. "Heavy cruisers, armed with turbolasers and concussion missiles. They took out every military target in the city."  
  
"What about the shields," asked Padme, whose shock was rapidly transforming into rage.  
  
"A commando team went in just before the attack with false registration as a supply ship for the shield generator garrison. One of our ion batteries damaged the ship as it tried to escape, and the transport crashed into the Records Building. Somehow, the commando team survived and are holding out there. I've managed to scrape together whatever military, police, and security personnel I can find. We've sealed off the area around the building but they have too much firepower. All our heavy weapons storage facilites and airbases were destroyed in the bombardment."  
  
"We must find a way to wipe them out. Take me to the battle, Captain."  
  
"Senator, are you sure that is a wise decision?" asked Obi-Wan. "They clearly cannot hold out indefinitely with limited ammunition. The Captain's tactics of containment are sound."  
  
"I am going, Jedi," Padme said, her voice again assuming the regal tone, "You are assigned to my protection, and have no authority to give me orders. If you are to protect me, you are compelled to come with me. We cannot commence with our rescue and rebuilding operations with armed enemies still threatening us."  
  
Kenobi and Panaka exchanged a knowing glance. It was futile to argue against Padme Naberrie once she had made up her mind.  
  
***  
  
A few minutes later they had arrived at the scene of the battle. Panaka informed them that a motley collection of military and security troops, about two companies in strength, had taken position behind the rubble near the surrounding streets.  
  
"What about the Gungans?" asked Padme, "their artillery would be invaluable."  
  
"I'm sorry, Senator," Panaka explained, "but Otoh Gunga was a target of the barrage as well. Two of the cruisers were equipped with concussion missiles modified to detonate underwater."  
  
Padme blanched, imagining the devastation of such powerful improvised depth charges on the huge underwater city.  
  
"Then we'll have to find a way to do this ourselves," she stated, grim. "What about the tunnel passages into the building?"  
  
"We already tried that, Senator. Concussion waves from the bombardment have collapsed most of the tunnels, and the rest are simply too unstable."  
  
The Senator was furious. Everything seemed to be going wrong at once.  
  
Anakin and Obi Wan, who had remained silent throughout the conversation, looked out into the streets from their vantage point behind a mound of wreckage. Perhaps fifty, sixty broken bodies lined the streets across from the Records Center. Panaka explained that the upper floor of each face was defended with a repeating blaster, and the fifty-meter approach to the once magnificent structure was somehow entirely devoid of adequate cover to assaulting troops.  
  
"We need firepower, but we simply don't have it," Panaka pointed out, as though it were not patently obvious.  
  
"I have an idea," offered Anakin. All heads turned toward the young Jedi.  
  
The young Jedi addressed the leader of a nearby squad of soldiers. "Corporal, I need a few blaster packs, two comlinks, and a length of bandage roll."  
  
The corporal, as well as the rest of his companions, met him with a quizzical look.  
  
"And how, exactly, is that going to help us?" Sabe asked, irritated.  
  
"I'm going to take out one of those blasters, of course," he said, grinning.  
  
***  
  
A few minutes later, Anakin had, with the help of some tools and a spare power cell for his lightsaber, assembled his strange device.  
  
"It should work," he explained to his audience. "I've wired the power cell to the outlet port of one of the blaster cartridges and then attached the power switch to one of the comlinks. The comlinks are set on an identical, exclusive frequency." The entire assembly was wrapped tightly in the bandage roll, with about a half meter strip extending from the bundle.  
  
Panaka actually looked impressed. "Remotely detonated mine," he said. "It could work."  
  
"But how are you going to get there?" asked Padme, pointing to the enemy- held building.  
  
"That's the difficult part of the plan," Anakin answered. "I can't block repeating blaster shots with my saber, but if the Captain can have his men create a diversion, I've seen a route I can use to approach one of those positions. Once one of those blasters is down, they won't be able to redeploy without leaving one of the walls undefended."  
  
"Our mission is to guard the Senator, Anakin, not to engage in firefights," interjected Obi-Wan.  
  
"Master, would you not agree that the presence of highly trained hostile soldiers in the Senator's immediate vicinity constitutes a threat?" asked Anakin in protest. "Only you and I could hope to make it across that street alive, and I have quicker reflexes of the two of us."  
  
Obi Wan sighed, reluctantly. Much like the Senator, Anakin could be incredibly stubborn . And he did have a point. Obi Wan had much more combat experience, but Anakin was young and incredibly quick.  
  
"Very well, Anakin. But don't do anything stupid."  
  
Anakin raised his eyes above the pile of debris, and spotted the charred wreckage of an overturned landspeeder sitting in the middle of the street, two hundred meters to his right.  
  
"I'll make my approach from that direction," he said. "I can use the speeder for cover before I run the last hundred meters."  
  
He tucked the bomb into the belt of his robe and began slowly edging his way toward another huge debris pile.  
  
***  
  
Twenty minutes later Anakin had reached his destination. He crouched, a ball of muscular tension ready to spring. The blaster fired sporadically, working over the corpses in the street and firing at the Naboo positions to keep the soldiers pinned. Anakin knew they were intent on conserving their finite ammunition supply. Extending his head around the edge of his improvised cover, he eyed the speeder, a hundred meters in front of his position. He looked over at Kenobi, who was watching from his former perch, and flashed a hand signal.  
  
At once, sixty Naboo soldiers appeared and began pumping a huge volume of fire in the general direction of the enemy position. Anakin sprang forward, using the Force to augment his speed and weaving an erratic, broken pattern in his run and crouching forward to make himself a much more difficult target. He saw the stream of bolts from the repeating blaster slew rapidly in his direction as he dived, somersaulting forward upon hitting the ground, and threw himself flat against the speeder's carcass. The blaster fired again, gouging holes in his improvised cover, but Anakin knew they would waste way too much ammunition burning through the wreck if they tried.  
  
Except now they knew where he was, and his probable intention.  
  
The fire of the Naboo troops slackened as they returned to cover. The repeater had managed to take out a handful as they exposed themselves to fire, and they had no desire to suffer any more casualties.  
  
Anakin peeked around the rear of the vehicle, realizing he was only 50 meters from his goal. Eventually, he would get close enough to the base of the building so that the repeater crew could not depress the weapon's barrel far enough to hit him.  
  
The Naboo opened fire again, and the blaster began to turn back to their position, taking down more men. Anakin saw his chance and sprinted forward, impossibly fast. He reached the base of the wall. The walkway comprising the structure's perimiter was covered by the ceiling of the second floor, shielding him from sight. He knew the blaster position was six floors up and seventy five meters to the left.  
  
He removed the bomb from his belt, and grasped the improvised comlink detonator in his other hand.  
  
He dashed forward, sensing the presence of the enemy in the Force, yet the signature of the commandos was somehow…out of place. He had no time to speculate, however. He stepped forward, emerging from under the overhang. He grasped his weapon by the length of bandage roll in his right hand and swung it in an ever-increasing arc.  
  
Anakin took a final step forward and hurled the projectile upward, guiding it in the Force with his now-free hand.  
  
The missile sailed through the open window housing the gun position.  
  
Anakin rushed back under the overhanging cover, flattened himself on the ground, and pressed the comlink's transmit button.  
  
A deafening explosion and accompanying concussion wave hammered him as the bomb exploded, hurling chunks of permacrete, splinters of transparisteel, and broken armored bodies into the street.  
  
He looked to the Naboo position, saw Obi Wan, Padme, the Handmaidens, and Captain Panaka leap forward from cover. Padme waved a blaster pistol in hand, gesturing to the rest of the men to follow, as fifty Naboo soldiers surged forward behind her. Obi Wan had his saber ready.  
  
He felt the strange Force presence again and dived to the left, just as the window behind him exploded outward, thousands of lethal transparisteel splinters scything through the air where he had just been. Anakin drew his saber and ignited it, leaping through the blasted-out window and into the building. The first floor was sparse in terms of cover, and the commandos had sent men down to deal with the new threat. Seeing nothing to hide behind and spying three gray-armored soldiers, carbines held level, he knew he would have to rely on his Jedi skills.  
  
A barrage of blaster bolts flew directly at him, but Anakin, feeling the Force flow through him, blocked each of the deadly shots with ease, managing to take one of the men down with a deflected bolt.  
  
Then suddenly Padme and his Master burst through a nearby door. While Obi- Wan turned aside blaster shots shots, Padme fired her blaster pistol twice, hitting one soldier in the chest and the other in the shoulder.  
  
The attackers rushed forward, bypassing the turbolifts, which were no doubt sabotaged, and heading for the elegant spiral staircase in the center of the vast room. More of the gray armored commandos appeared, and managed to down two of the Naboo before they were quickly dispatched.  
  
***  
  
The Lieutenant had expected to be overwhelmed eventually. He ran to the position on the East face, finding four riflemen. "Come with me!" he barked.  
  
Perhaps he could escape to cause the Naboo even greater grief. 


	6. Chapter 6

The fighting had been hard, room-to-room, but at last the weight of numbers prevailed.  
  
The Jedi and Naboo rested, the bodies of the commandos laid out before them in two rows.  
  
Padme had wanted to capture one of them alive, but they had refused any offer of surrender, forcing the Naboo to kill them.  
  
"I recognize the armor," said Obi-Wan. "Mandalorian, used by their warriors against the Jedi thousands of years ago. They were merciless and ferocious, killing for pleasure. I had thought the Jedi destroyed them."  
  
"Captain Panaka," Padme ordered, "Check the bodies for any intelligence you can find." Perhaps something of importance would be discovered.  
  
***  
  
Panaka and a corporal had gathered weapons, equipment, and gear from the bodies, and removed the helmet of one of them. They went to the next two men, also removing the helmets.  
  
The faces were human, with tanned skin, brown eyes, and closely cropped brown hair.  
  
And they were completely identical.  
  
Panaka stood, shocked, realing with the news.  
  
He spoke only one ominous word.  
  
"Clones."  
  
***  
  
The large Republic transport arrived that afternoon. The Supreme Chancellor stepped out onto the ruined streets of Theed, surrounded by ten blue- uniformed Guards. Behind him walked Jedi Masters Yoda and Mace Windu.  
  
Wisely, the Chancellor chose not to trifle with security.  
  
He approached Padme, Panaka, and the two Jedi.  
  
"My deepest condolences at this terrible time, Senator," he said to Padme. "I rushed here as soon as I could make arrangements for my transportation."  
  
"Thank you for your concern, Chancellor," she answered, voice a mixture of tiredness and anger.  
  
"I can assure you, Senator, that I will do everything I can to help. I have signed into law an executive order authorizing a relief grant to fund the rebuilding, as well as medical personnel and supplies."  
  
"Naboo is indebted to you for your gratitude," she replied.  
  
"And I have also authorized the Jedi to begin an investigation into the attack."  
  
Mace Windu stepped forward, addressing Obi-Wan and Anakin. "Kenobi, you and Skywalker will continue to look after the Senator's security. Now tell us what you've been able to discover."  
  
Kenobi explained all that was known about the attack, and finally broached the topic of the cloned Mandalorian commandos.  
  
"Disturbing, this is," observed Yoda. "More destruction, there will be."  
  
"I agree," said Windu. "There is no reason anyone in possession of cloning technology would limit themselves to the production of a single infantry platoon. This attack was clearly intended to inflict as much damage and terror as possible. Someone was trying to send a message."  
  
"But why Naboo," asked Panaka, angrily. "We are a peaceful society. We maintain political neutrality."  
  
"Perhaps the Senator herself was the target," Windu mused. He paused for a moment in thought. "Senator Naberrie and Aks Moe were both among the Supreme Chancellor's staunches supporters in the Senate. Perhaps the two events are related. Someone is out to destabilize Palpatine's administration."  
  
"But Master," replied Obi-Wan, "such an activity would only makes sense if...they were planning some sort of coup."  
  
"Act quickly, we must. Clouded, the future is. The Dark Side, I sense."  
  
At Yoda's words, the discomfort among the group was palpable.  
  
***  
  
The wounded were everywhere. Set out on the streets and sidewalks near the overflowing medical facilities, lined up for blocks.  
  
Padme had managed to organize teams of police and soldiers to maintain order, clear out onlookers from damaged areas, and distribute food and water to groups of victims. Emergency personnel tended the wounded, and the able-bodied were organized into teams to try to free those trapped inside collapsed structures.  
  
Obi-Wan and Anakin had volunteered to help, using the Force to sense the presence of those still alive.  
  
Obi-Wan paused next to a collapsed home. He sensed great pain and fear inside. He directed his team of men to begin clearing the debris, piece by piece. An hour later, they saw the boy.  
  
He couldn't have been more than four years old. He clung to his dead mother, crying, his eyes looking up at Obi Wan, filled with wild fear. The Jedi reached out his hand slowly, touching it to the boy's forehead, sending soothing sensations through the Force, attempting to transfer the boy's pain to himself. When the child had relaxed somewhat, Obi-Wan lifted him gently, mindful of the severely twisted ankle. Cradling the boy in his arms, he handed him carefully to the Army medic nearby.  
  
He had seen many such haunting sights that day and was bound to see many, many more. He could sense anger in Anakin's Force presence, not having the heart to chide his apprentice. After all, at times like these, he wasn't entirely beyond righteous fury.  
  
This was no way to conduct a war. 


	7. Chapter 7

Short note from Tim:  
  
Okay, so I uploaded a BUNCH today…sorry I haven't been regular about it but seeing as no one seemed to be reading this anyway, I wasn't horribly motivated to.  
  
So, if you ARE reading this, please be kind and post some feedback. I'm not a feedback whore but if no one's reading, why bother wasting everyone's time? This story received several awards nominations over on the JC (for best action and best prequel story) yet over here, seems to be utterly ignored. And I am at a total loss as to why. Unforgiven, my other story, is doing quite well here.  
  
-Tim  
  
The visitors from Coruscant decided to depart two days later, having conducted a thorough inspection of the damage and occasionally providing assistance when possible. The Supreme Chancellor had taken a moment to speak with the Naboo Senator, however, attempting to get her to reconsider what all involved considered a risky decision.  
  
"Senator, are you sure remaining here is a wise course of action?" he asked. "You must consider the possibility of further attacks."  
  
However, much like the moment ten years ago when the newly elected Chancellor had failed to change her mind regarding her decision to return to Naboo, Padme would not listen.  
  
"I appreciate your concern, Chancellor, but my duty is to my people. I have the handmaidens and the Jedi for protection. But I am needed here. Queen Jamilla needs my help. I have appointed Governor Bibble to speak for me in the Senate. He will accompany you to Coruscant to speak before the Senate."  
  
"I do wish you would not hold your own safety in such disregard, Senator, but if this is your decision, I cannot order you to change your mind. However, I would be crushed if anything were to happen to you."  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, Mace Windu had paused to relay further orders to Anakin and Obi- Wan.  
  
"Knight Kenobi, you will accompany Master Yoda and I back to Coruscant to testify before the Senate. Padawan Skywalker will remain here to continue to protect the Senator."  
  
"Be mindful of your instincts, Anakin. The Senator is still in danger. If anything happens, contact the Council immediately. And don't let the Senator out of your sight. I will try to return here as soon as possible."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin replied.  
  
***  
  
On the bridge of the Intimidator, now returning to Planet 2179, Raptor knelt before the hologram of Lord Sidious.  
  
"You have done well, my apprentice."  
  
"What is my next task?" Raptor asked, grateful for the rare praise of his Master.  
  
"Once your fleet has arrived, you will return to Wayland, and oversee our final preparations. You will order General Fett to begin loading his troops."  
  
Sidious was impatient, ever ready to strike another devastating blow against his enemies. "When shall we attack, Master?"  
  
"Soon," Sidious answered. "Very soon." 


	8. Chapter 8

She was exhausted, in a foul mood, disheveled in appearance, and had not slept in days. But to Anakin, she was no less beautiful.  
  
She had been a constant image in his mind for ten long years, to varying degrees at various times, but always there, as though a beautiful ghost were haunting his mind.  
  
In many ways, he saw her as he had first remembered her, when he was a young boy, as his mind still harbored an outlook of innocence and not-yet- tainted idealism. Yet he had come to learn that for a Jedi, romantic relationships were forbidden, that his fantasies would remain precisely that. Distance, along with the passage of time, allowed him to if not forget her entirely, at least to dampen his feelings. He thought he had at last resigned that particular dream for that of becoming a Jedi Knight, but in an occasional idle moment, her memory would return, and he would force himself to forget about her once again.  
  
Yet here she was. Once again their fates had converged, and the old feelings so long dormant had returned, even stronger than before, and now more mature in nature.  
  
He would let himself savor her image in his minds eye, imagining what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to contemplate the depths of her eyes, to surround himself with the warmth she seemed to radiate. He imagined the taste of her lips against his own, the sensation of running his hands through the silky mass of her hair. But then he would reprove himself for such thoughts, knowing to act on his desires would deny him his place in the Order he served. Yet the mental truce was a volatile one; while Anakin possessed a considerable intellect, he was at heart one who followed his passions, wherever they might take him.  
  
He mollified his frustration by the concession that if nothing else, he sensed her path was somehow inextricably entwined with his own.  
  
***  
  
"…and I was obligated to step down after my second term as Queen. Chancellor Palpatine suggested that perhaps I should run for his vacant Senate seat, and I won overwhelmingly. I admit I prefer being a Senator, much less ceremony and more of a feeling of accomplishment, though sometimes the Senate seems out to drive me insane. How about you? What have you been doing all these years?"  
  
"Training, mostly. Obi-Wan said I had a great deal of catching up to do entering the Order so late. It was frustrating, though. I keep thinking they should let me go on more missions. With the strain of the last few years, we need all the Jedi out in the field we can get. But they seem reluctant to send me."  
  
"Be patient, Anakin," she admonished. "You'll get more missions, in time."  
  
"I suppose your right," he admitted, "but it's still frustrating."  
  
They were silent for a few long moments. When she did not reply, he noticed that she had fallen asleep in her chair, at last overcome with exhaustion.  
  
He stood for a moment, unsure exactly what to do. He recalled a fainting couch nearby he had seen earlier-clearly, it would be more comfortable than her chair, he told himself. However, he also realized she might awaken en route. He decided to press on, however.  
  
Anakin approached her gingerly, gathering her limp form into his arms and carrying her to the couch. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to tell her how he felt-the fact that she was in his arms and the mere proximity of her luscious form was rapidly overcoming his reservations-and when she let out a contented moan it was all he could do to prevent his legs from giving out from under him- but with reluctance he set her down gently, and gradually reined in his errant train of thought.  
  
While she slept, he stood silent watch at the door. 


	9. Chapter 9

What is this that stands before me?  
  
Figure in black which points at me  
  
Turn around quick, and start to run  
  
Find out I'm the chosen one  
  
Oh nooo!"  
  
From "Black Sabbath" by, well, Black Sabbath.  
  
  
  
In his dream he was on Naboo- a pristine, undamaged, idyllic Naboo in all the splendor of glorious landscapes and beautiful architecture- standing beside none other than Padme Amidala.  
  
The two of them were, he realized, getting married. He reached out to Padme - a vision in white satin and lace, so breathtaking in radiance that her beauty was almost terrifying, as if a glimpse from those vast amber eyes would stop his heart from beating - to draw her into his embrace and usher in their newly-realized bond with a kiss that would only be the first of a thousand treasured memories, when suddenly the sky, blue, beautiful, and utterly pacific, filled with dark, malevolent clouds in the beginning of a terrible, violent storm. A peal of thunder boomed directly overhead, making the ground itself tremble under its violence.  
  
He reached for her again, his purpose now for the sense of protection and to surround himself with the peaceful, reassuring sensation of her presence. Yet, to his utter horror, his hands, which should have met with met with the exquisite warm, solid sensation of Padme's form, passed through her image, meeting no resistance of any kind. She was, he realized, incorporeal, an illusion. Suddenly, she vanished back into the air, and the sky above grew even darker, the clouds blotting out any trace of the benevolent sun. The elegant beauty of Theed was gone as well, becoming a barren, cratered wasteland of cracked obsidian surface over which flowed endless rivers of lava.  
  
Backlit against the orange glow of one of the lava flows and the endless flashes of lighting stood a figure, dark and robed, from which peered terrible, glowing red eyes. The figure ignited a scarlet lightsaber.  
  
Without warning the scene changed again. Now he stood in a ruined, smoking city, ordering units of white-armored, faceless soldiers to open fire on terrorized civilian captives, speaking his ghastly commands with a impossibly deep, booming voice which was clearly not his own.  
  
He seemed posessed of terrible power, as though by his whims billions died, at his single word legions of soldiers marched forward to die and kill for him, wishing to do nothing else. and he felt nothing but pain. Terrible, intense, indescribable pain.  
  
"It is unavoidable," said a disembodied voice of pure malevolence. "Behold, your destiny."  
  
And then, suddenly, a cry of anguish assaulted him in the Force- and a faint presence of loving familiarity, to his absolute terror, flickered momentarily and died.  
  
***  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he heard himself shouting at the top of his lungs, suddenly upright and wide awake. A blur of motion appeared in the doorway, revealing a sight which in any other circumstance would have been indeed most welcome; namely Padme Amidala, clad in a nightgown, bursting in to his sleeping quarters in the middle of the night.  
  
She rushed to his side, eyes wide in fright and an expression of deep concern. "Anakin," she said, rather breathless, "Anakin, what's wrong?"  
  
When he spoke, it seemed the voice was not his own, for he did not wish to speak what he realized he had sensed.  
  
"It's...it's my mother." 


	10. Chapter 10

"Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others."  
  
-Winston Churchill  
  
  
  
"This assembly WILL come to ORDER!!" shouted Chancellor Palpatine.  
  
The entire Senate was in turmoil again after hearing word of the savage attack. The Supreme Chancellor had called for an emergency session as soon as he left Theed for the capital.  
  
As becoming such a large body of politicians, everyone demanded that something be done, but was unwilling to bring forth any sort of specifics, much less a workable plan.  
  
Finally, at the Chancellor's command, the Senate gradually fell silent.  
  
"Members of the Senate, citizens of the Republic," Palpatine spoke, loudspeakers and the room's excellent acoustics filling the Senate Floor with his voice, "Our Republic is threatened by a menace never before seen since the years of chaos which preceded its founding. The peaceful planet of Naboo, my own home, was attacked by vicious and merciless warships. Casualties are estimated at over one hundred thousand. Our duty demands that we react strongly and swiftly, united in a common purpose, to ensure the safety of our Republic. Therefore, I have drafted a resolution calling for the use of all of the Republic's investigative resources in tracking down those responsible for this heinous act.  
  
I have here with me Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, and Sio Bibble, Governor of Theed, who is representing Senator Naberrie, who has chosen to remain on Naboo with her people. Both will bear witness to the savagery of the attack and the suffering of the Naboo."  
  
Palpatine looked towards the Naboo platform, containing Bibble and the Jedi knight. "The chair will now recognize the honorable Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi."  
  
"Thank you, Supreme Chancellor," Obi-Wan began, his cultured voice now reverberating throughout the Senate, "While on Naboo protecting the Senator, my apprentice and I became engaged with a small force of the attackers who had destroyed the Theed shield generator. When we examined the bodies for intelligence, we realized that the soldiers were physically identical in all respects. Subsequent genetic analysis has revealed that the soldiers are the product of cloning technology."  
  
The resulting chorus of panicked voices took Chancellor Palpatine much longer to restore order.  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Anakin? What about your mother?" Padme asked, still concerned.  
  
Sabe entered the room that moment, leading a procession of guards, handmaidens, and other startled palace inhabitants. Everyone's nerves had been on edge since the attack, and more than a few alarms had risen from a sentry who had been on duty for too long and without rest.  
  
Naturally, when they saw only the young Jedi and no intruders, they filed from the room, grumbling and cursing.  
  
"I don't know," Anakin replied, getting to his feet, throwing on his tunic and robes, and grabbing a few assorted items, lightsaber among them. "But I have to go find her. I have to go find her NOW."  
  
She paused for a moment. "And I'm coming with you."  
  
"Padme," he said, "I'm going to be in enough trouble with Obi-Wan when I get back, and I don't think that Queen Jamilla will take too kindly to you running off to Tatooine with me."  
  
But Padme, as ever, was insistent. "Anakin, you don't know what's happening down there, and…you shouldn't have to face this alone." She replied, her voice softening. "Besides, it will look better if I'm with you since you were assigned to protect me."  
  
"Thank you, Padme," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.  
  
Ten minutes later, the Senator's ship, with Anakin at the controls, blasted out of the ruined city and out into the blackness of space. 


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing that hit them was the heat. Dry, stifling, choking heat. The type of heat that made it impossible to think about anything else but just how hot Tatooine was. Their sleek, silvery Naboo starship looked very much out of place among the dilapidated, weatherbeaten smuggler ships in Mos Espa's spaceport. Padme, however, had donned a hooded robe similar to the planet's peasant population, while Anakin wore his drab, inconspicuous Jedi fare, though he kept his lightsaber concealed.  
  
Though Anakin had not been to Mos Espa in 10 years, he had no trouble remembering his way around as he quickly led Padme through the maze of congested streets towards a small, familiar shop that, a sign proclaimed, sold salvaged spaceship components. They walked inside the shop's entrance, and Anakin, struck with the onset of recurring mixed emotions regarding his life before the Jedi, rang the small bell at the desk.  
  
The familiar blue Toydarian, leathery wings moving impossibly fast, hovered over to greet his new customers.  
  
"Welcome," he said in his gritty voice, "What can I get you?"  
  
He was surprised at the unnerving urgency in the young man's voice. "I'm looking for a former slave of yours – Shimi Skywalker."  
  
"Ahh yes, ummm…Shimi, yes…she isn't mine anymore. I sold her to an umm…Lars."  
  
"Could you tell us where she is right now?" Anakin asked, insistent.  
  
"Moisture farm, not too far from Mos Eisley. What's it to you?"  
  
"I'm her son," the man replied.  
  
Wattoo was shocked. Could this tall figure have been the precocious and talented boy he remembered? "Ani? Ani?? Is it really you?" he asked. "I wondered what happened to you after you ran off with that old swindling Jedi."  
  
Anakin bristled at the comment, not at all enjoying hearing the great Qui Gon Jinn referred to in such a manner. Padme offered a calming glance, and his anger faded as quickly as it had flared.  
  
"Yes, Wattoo, I'm a Jedi now."  
  
"Wow…a Jedi, ehh? I don't suppose you'd like to stop by later….I can't get the blasted power generator here working…"  
  
But when he turned around, Anakin and his companion were already on their way out the door.  
  
***  
  
  
  
The Jungand Wastes were a harsh environment, a wasteland of sandstorms, predators, ruthlessly competing wildlife, a land of death and destruction. Along the timeless, eternally shifting dunes crept giant sandcrawlers, populated by roving Jawas, scavengers of the desert's mechanical victims who made their miserable nomadic livelihood by trading with the local moisture farmers.  
  
Shimi Skywalker had gone out one particular morning to seek out the Jawas, needing to purchase some critical supplies for the Lars' homestead's moisture vaporators. A simple woman, Shimi did not require a great deal in life to be happy, and lately she had been as close to happiness as ever. Five years ago she had become acquainted with a local farmer and widower, Cliegg Lars, and the two of them had fallen in love. After two years, Cliegg was able to save enough money to buy her freedom from Wattoo, who had to pay off mounting gambling debts. Once freed, she had married Cliegg and gone to live the life of a Tatooine moisture farmer. Although she dearly missed Anakin, she had taken an instant liking to Cliegg's son from his previous marriage, Owen, who was two years younger than Anakin.  
  
But now, all that remained for Owen and Cliegg to find was a crumpled, bloodstained body lying in the sand, with bantha tracks all around. The two men knew the savage, hated Tuskens were responsible. After they had returned the body to the homestead, they had set out to find the raiding party, seeking to appease their grief and frustration in revenge, but the savage elements had already erased the trail. 


	12. Chapter 12

Only minutes after Anakin and Padme left Wattoo's garage, the Royal Starship, running at full throttle, arrived at the small homestead of one Cliegg Lars, moisture farmer. The Jedi and Senator headed toward the tiny above-ground entrance, and were intercepted by a protocol droid with drab and rusty cover plating.  
  
"Greetings. I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations specialist, at your service. Do you require assistance?"  
  
"Yeah," Anakin replied. I'm looking for my mother, Shimi Skywalker. Does she live here?"  
  
"Oh, my. Then you must be – Master Anakin…and Miss Padme! Oh, it is a joy to see you again, were it not for the terrible goings on of the past few days. I believe you had better come inside."  
  
C-3PO turned, gesturing for Anakin and Padme to follow him inside the entrance of the dwelling. They were greeted by a tired looking man of middle age with leathery skin and weathered features.  
  
"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice gruff and weary.  
  
The droid gestured towards the new arrivals. "Master Cliegg, may I present Senator Padme Naberrie…and Jedi Anakin Skywalker."  
  
Cliegg stared at Anakin as though he had just seen a ghost. "Anakin? She always talked about you. It's…good to meet you, but I wish with all my heart that it had been under different circumstances." His voice suddenly became shaky. "She…would have loved to see you."  
  
The tension broke for a moment when a young man, who reminded Anakin of a younger version of Cliegg Lars, accompanied by a short, pretty, blonde woman, entered the room.  
  
"Anakin, this is my son Owen and his girlfriend, Beru. Owen, Beru, this is Anakin Skywalker."  
  
"I came here because I had a vision about my mother. Where is she?" Anakin asked.  
  
His question was met with a seemingly endless silence. The tension in the room could have been sliced with his lightsaber, he mused. Finally, Cliegg spoke.  
  
"She's in there," he said, gesturing to a nearby doorway opening into another room. "I'm sorry, son," he said, sympathy evident in his tone.  
  
***  
  
After a grueling ordeal of testimony before the Senate, Obi-Wan Kenobi half considered asking Sio Bibble to run him through with his lightsaber. Theed had been attacked by a clone army, couldn't the Senate come to agreement that further measures were necessary? Could they cease their petty squabbling for just a single moment? Instead, it had turned into a savage debate about which particular proposal or course of action to take, with the usual factions predictably taking sides with their leaders. Obi-Wan sighed, exhausted. He was more warrior than politician, though he had proved an able enough diplomat. He would carry out his orders from the Senate and the Council, and that was enough.  
  
But now he would return to Naboo and continue with his Padawan to help the Queen and safeguard the Senator. At the moment, he was preparing to send Anakin a short message.  
  
"Captain Panaka," he said "this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I have a message for Anakin I want you to give him when you can get the chance."  
  
"Oh," Panaka's voice replied over the comlink. "Anakin and the Senator departed from Naboo yesterday."  
  
"What? Departed Naboo? Do you have any idea where they were headed?" Obi- Wan asked in disbelief.  
  
"Negative. No one knows where they went. He had a nightmare and his screaming woke up half the palace a couple nights ago. A few minutes later the Senator's ship was seen blasting out of the Palace hangar."  
  
"Damn," Obi-Wan said. "I guess I'll have to go find them myself."  
  
He swore to himself again. He had assumed the Council's orders were simple enough: stay in Theed and protect the Senator. So why had they left? He could see Anakin doing such a thing, but Padme? He paused for a moment, letting go of his anger and trying to think. He wondered if somehow Anakin's nightmare and the disappearance were related.  
  
And then he realized what it must have been.  
  
His mother.  
  
Anakin had experienced disturbing dreams and visions concerning his mother before. Could he have gone to Tatooine? He concentrated on his bond with Anakin in the Force…he sensed great pain, sadness, and simmering anger. Emotions that would be consistent with something happening to Shimi.  
  
Five minutes later he was in a Jedi fighter, screaming out of Coruscant's atmosphere and headed for an obscure arid planet on the Outer Rim.  
  
***  
  
She was lying on a table, unseeing eyes turned upwards towards the ceiling. Anakin had always thought her beautiful, and even in death she remained so, bathed by the sunlight streaming through the room's solitary window and casting a brilliant glow upon her face.  
  
Anakin did not wish to move – or breathe, or do anything, save to will that time would reverse its merciless, incessant course – but felt himself drawn toward the body of his mother by some unseen hand, as though his feet did not move of his own volition.  
  
Her wounds had been cleaned, and her slashed robes replaced, though Anakin, when he approached, saw that a vicious gash ran across her forehead. Despite the heat of the planet, the icy sensation in his stomach was overpowering. He stood over her now, her lifeless eyes staring up at him – eyes which brought back solitary memories of love and enjoyment in an otherwise terrible childhood.  
  
He knelt down next to her, taking one of her hands in his own – it was cold, he thought, so dreadfully cold – and a tear fell, landing on her cheek.  
  
After a few long moments he finally felt capable of speaking. "I'm sorry," he said between sobs, "I'm so sorry, mom. I should have come back for you."  
  
He did not see Padme enter the room behind him, slowly approaching. She placed a hand on his shoulder to offer him what comfort she could. "Oh, Anakin," she said, "I'm so sorry."  
  
As he cried, she held him for a long while.  
  
*** 


	13. Chapter 13

The occupants of the small dwelling were engaged in an extremely subdued dinner. "How…did it happen?" Anakin asked.  
  
"We found her yesterday morning after she had been gone all night. She insisted on trying to make it out to the Wastes to bargain with the Jawas on getting some spare power coils for the vaporators. I tried to warn her about going out alone and possibly not making it back before dark, but she wouldn't listen. So when she didn't come back, Owen and I took a speeder out to look for her. She was dead when we arrived, and there were bantha tracks all around the area. Must have been those god-damned Sandpeople. We tried to follow them but the wind had already blown away the tracks."  
  
"Sithspawned Tuskens," Owen added, "ought to just wipe out the lot of 'em. Kriffing savages."  
  
Anakin, who had been mostly overcome with a deathly silence throughout the evening, suddenly rose abruptly and left the dinner table. Padme, concerned, followed him a few moments later.  
  
***  
  
He stood outside the small homestead, pacing restlessly, kicking small mounds of sand in impotent frustration. He noticed Padme approach, and turned to face her.  
  
"Dammit, Padme," he shouted in frustration, "I should have gone earlier! I should have been there, done something."  
  
"Anakin, don't blame yourself," she replied. "It wasn't your fault. She was freed, she married the man she loved, and even if you had come back for her the day after you joined the Jedi, it wouldn't have changed what happened."  
  
"But I promised her I would come back for her!" he said. "And I failed. And now she is dead, Padme. What sort of great Jedi will I be if I can't even protect my own mother?"  
  
"Listen, Anakin," she said, "I know you don't want to hear this, but even a Jedi can't protect everyone all the time."  
  
"I know…but we should! The Order has a duty to maintain peace and justice in the Galaxy, but slavery is still rampant in the Rim because no one in the Senate gives a damn. Cliegg had to work his ass off for TWO YEARS before he could free my mother from Wattoo. He should not have had to. She should have been free and accorded the exact same rights as any other citizen in the Republic, Padme. And the Jedi have done NOTHING about it. And as a Jedi, I am also to blame. She deserved a better life than this, but she was living in the wrong place at the wrong time, and nobody cared."  
  
"I'm sorry, Anakin. I tried to push the antislavery proposal through the Senate but it got buried in committee. Too many Senators have become corrupt and formed alliances among themselves."  
  
"I know," he replied, continuing his tirade, "And that's precisely why the present government is good for nothing. There is no direction to the Senate beyond those who are serving themselves. Sure, there are idealists like you and Senator Organa, but what is two against several thousand? Palpatine vowed to end corruption but the Supreme Chancellor has too little power to impose his will on the Senate. And the Council has become a debating society, only stepping in after a tragedy as already happened. I was told that I had great potential in the Force, but what good is power if no one is willing to use it? What would have become of me had your ship not been forced to land on Tatooine? I would still be racing pods and working for Wattoo. Qui-Gon Jinn believed in me, but he was killed. And now my mother is dead too. And that is what I fear – that everyone who believes in me will end up dead, and I will be powerless to protect them."  
  
"That's not true, Anakin," she said "I happen to think you could become a great Jedi if you are able to move past feeling guilty for something that wasn't your fault. Listen, I know it isn't easy. I left my family to train for politics when I was very young, and while I was studying in Theed a plague wiped out my mother and father's entire villiage. At the time I felt horrible because I felt as though I'd abandoned them, but they wanted me to succeed in government, just like your mother wanted you to become a Jedi. She loved you enough to let go of you, Anakin."  
  
"I'm sorry, Padme, I had no idea." His anger subsided, to disappear beneath the surface for a moment. He was shocked that such a terrible thing had happened to her, for he would never have guessed. She seemed not to have a trace of bitterness in her being. "Tell me, though – do you ever get over it?"  
  
"Not a day goes by that I don't think about them," she said, subdued. "But I realized I had to move on with my life. It will take time for you to heal, but you will."  
  
"Thank you," he said. "But if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone for awhile."  
  
  
  
As he stood, alone, robes whipped by the ferocious winds and the setting sun turning his form to a dark, ominous silhouette of fury, his anger returned to him, and he did not hold it in check – letting it expand, filling his every thought, every cell of his being, growing within him until it seemed, any thought of Obi–Wan's teachings, of love, of sentimentality, of idealism, even memories of his mother had vanished, displaced by his fiery hatred which now completely possessed him.  
  
He remained silent when he returned indoors, although his eyes and expression of terrible and unknown purpose precluded any desire from his companions to speak with him. And  
  
when he slipped out later that night, to return before dawn the next morning, no one noticed.  
  
And in his mind, beneath the echo, a small voice from his nightmares repeated incessantly a recurring mantra:  
  
It is unavoidable. It is your destiny. For all you hold dear will be destroyed, and you will fail them. 


	14. Interlude: Night of the Stormrider

Okay, so this is a bit of an oddity - slight change of plans, but thank CYNICAL21 for giving me an idea that was just too delicious to pass up.  
  
Call it an interlude, perhaps.  
  
Night of the Stormrider  
  
(note…this is supposed to be entirely italicized but it never uploads from word that way)  
  
With the Voice haunting my mind, I leapt onto the swoop and rode off into the night, leaving the throttles wide open, guided by an unknown hand.  
  
I streaked across the barren dunes as the coming of darkness gradually chilled the land, though inside I burned.  
  
And I rode - and the wind rode with me and a great fire was rising within me, and the wind rose with it. And suddenly I was a part of the wind - and it was a part of me. Until finally, I was the wind - and nothing could stand before me and I became a sandstorm, unstoppable, wild, devastating all in my path.  
  
There was no coherent thought, for I became an embodiment of my hatred, an instrument of vengeance, as though hate had completely immersed my identity. And I heard no sound but The Voice, low, seductive.  
  
"Goooood. Goood. You could not save her, but the privilege of vengeance awaits, my young friend."  
  
And somehow the chill that ran up and down my spine when I heard the voice did not disturb me. This time.  
  
They did not see me streaking towards them, the twenty Tuskens, riding single-file upon their banthas, trying to reach safety before the night storms came. How wrong they were. I ignited my saber, rapidly overtaking the column, and leaning slightly I swiped downward at the trailing rider, severed his head in a clean stroke. I felt nothing.  
  
His companions turned, too late, attempting to bring weapons to bear, but I zoomed out of range and landed the swoop. Saber in hand I moved toward them with deadly purpose, and the battle was joined. The blade flashed and whirled, slicing gaffe sticks, blaster barrels, and bodies with terrible fluid grace. I had become the wind, and like the wind, I was everywhere at once - swirling, lashing, unrelenting - I was a man possessed, knowing nor wanting nothing save revenge, annihilation of my enemies. Time stood still for my anger, and the desert trembled at my rage. It was rumored that Tuskens feared above all the god of storms, and now he thirsted for the blood of his subjects.  
  
None were left alive.  
  
I still felt nothing, except for that odd, chilly caress.  
  
"Your hate has made you powerful."  
  
And after he spoke, there was terrible laughter, and the storm faded back into the night, while the shifting dunes and carrion birds began to hide once more the dark secrets of the Wastes. 


	15. Chapter 14

Obi-Wan arrived later the next morning shortly after Shmi was buried. The affair was a simple one, as the Lars were a simple, honest people, in no need of the distractions of superfluous ceremony. Digging a grave in the sand was not an easy task, yet the three men had done it, and Shmi's final resting place was next to that of Cliegg's first wife, who had died giving birth to Owen. Cliegg looked more weary than usual, for having lost the only two women he had ever loved was a terrible burden to bear, and his stoic exterior concealed a man with deep-running emotions.  
  
He saw Anakin on his knees, staring at his mother's headstone. Obi-Wan approached his apprentice and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Anakin, I am so sorry," he said.  
  
Anakin rose and slowly turned to face him, his features tight and grim, a combination of grief, anger, and silence.  
  
"Why did she have to die, Master? Why couldn't I have saved her?" he asked, near tears.  
  
"Dealing with loss is never easy, Padawan. Sometimes the Force acts in a strange manner and accepting its will can be extremely difficult. But you must give it time." He paused, deciding to approach the subject gingerly. "It is only natural to experience intense emotions at a time like this, but you must let them flow, lest they control you."  
  
Anakin's face suddenly flushed with anger. "And you say that I should merely passively accept her death?" he asked, with a sudden hard edge to his words. "It's certainly easy for you to say, isn't it? What right have you to dictate how I should feel? You never even knew your mother, Master."  
  
"I'm sorry, Padawan. I don't mean to seem insensitive to your pain. But I have experienced such feelings." He fell silent for a moment, his eyes becoming soft and unfocussed. "Qui-Gon was - everything to me - the only father I had ever known - and I had to stand helpless as he lay dying."  
  
His eyes met Anakin's once again - and, for the briefest passing instant he saw dark shadows beneath, shadows which concealed some grave secret behind their depths. But in the next instant the darkness faded, and Obi-Wan willed himself to believe that perhaps it was just a trick of the harsh desert light.  
  
Anakin paused for a moment, his anger subsiding. "But at least you had revenge. You destroyed the Sith responsible for his death."  
  
"It was NOT revenge, Padawan. I was forced to defend myself, and I was victorious, but I did not relish it."  
  
Anakin was thoughtful. "Is this why Jedi never know their family?" he asked. "To spare them unknown atrocities while we do nothing to help the victims?"  
  
"Anakin, the Order is not large enough to protect everyone," Obi-Wan explained gently. "and we cannot act unilaterally or show favor, for we serve all citizens of the Republic equally. Attachment and possession are forbidden to Jedi for precisely this reason. We cannot succumb to the danger of being overcome by intense emotions, or allow them to lead to favoritism."  
  
"So because I loved my mother I am in error?" Anakin retorted. "Are we allowed to feel, or must we stifle that aspect of humanity as well?"  
  
"Of course you are allowed to have feelings, Anakin. You misinterpret the Order's teachings. There is nothing wrong with emotion, but it must be allowed to flow. When held inside it begins to dominate you, and can lead to the Dark Side. And loss of a loved one or a threat to them may cause a Jedi to act rashly."  
  
"I am sorry, Master," Anakin replied. "I understand the theory, but the experience isn't so cut and dry."  
  
"That is why I am here for you, Anakin. The most important thing is that you do not have to face this alone. Don't lose sight of those who care for you, my Padawan."  
  
"I apologize, Master. I should not have lashed out at you."  
  
"There is no need for you to apologize for your passionate nature, Anakin. It is who you are, and it need not always be a weakness. Just remember not to let the heat of the moment gain control of your actions. Consider this a painful yet necessary lesson, Anakin. But never think you must apologize for your feelings." He gave Anakin's Padawan braid a sympathetic tug, as he was often accustomed to as a gesture of affection.  
  
"Thank you, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan still sensed his apprentice's shields were raised, but he did not have the heart to press the issue.  
  
**  
  
Padme had watched the interaction between Master and Padawan from the small doorway of the homestead. She feared for Anakin, as there was a vague menace in his dead silence and cold, haunted eyes. She had seen the intensity of his anger, how he seemed at one moment a raging inferno of emotion, and the next would return to his normal, agreeable self.  
  
If his intensity was at times frightening, it also seemed to be the mark of a young man who, with his every movement, word, and action, appeared to proclaim that he was a force to be reckoned with, not to be underestimated. The combination of traits was something she had not before seen in Jedi, especially in the way Anakin never seemed to bother hiding his emotions in the slightest. He was a most interesting enigma for an inquiring spirit like herself.  
  
But that wasn't what really bothered her.  
  
She had always put her duty to Naboo above all else, especially personal feelings or because of a single individual. So, she asked herself, why had she come to Tatooine with Anakin so readily? Why the sudden concern for a young man she had not seen in a decade? And why did the image of those blue eyes remain implanted so vividly in her mind?  
  
Perhaps she did not truly wish to know the answer.  
  
**  
  
A few hours after Obi-Wan's arrival, the Jedi and Senator returned to Naboo. Owen had decided to have C-3P0 join Anakin, as it had been Shmi who kept the verbose droid around as a reminder of her son, and Owen did not have any more use for it. Perhaps, he suggested, a protocol droid would be better suited to a Senator than a moisture farmer.  
  
When they landed, Masters Yoda and Windu were waiting, and no sooner had Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped from the Jedi starfighter's cockpit, the two Council members had called him aside.  
  
"Knight Kenobi," Mace Windu said, "change of plans. You are to depart for Malastare and look for evidence regarding the sabotage of Aks Moe's transport."  
  
"And what of Anakin? I presume the Naboo have informed you of the reason for the abrupt departure of their Senator?"  
  
"Receive word, we did," said Yoda. "Most unfortunate, this is. Continue to protect the Senator, he will."  
  
"We all feared Anakin's attachment to his mother, and his emotions could easily compromise any mission he is to perform. However, we cannot abandon our obligation to protect Senator Naberrie. Therefore, your Padawan must remain on Naboo."  
  
"When you return, Obi-Wan, watch him, you must. Anger, fear, I sense in young Skywalker. Vulnerable, he is."  
  
None of the three Jedi chose to speak of their unease about the young man, though all could sense it.  
  
***  
  
They had been living in the cave of one of many of Theed's subterranean tunnels for several days, occasionally sending out a man to steal food and water. And now their Lieutenant was dressed as a Naboo Royal Guard, watching the Jedi starfighter leave the Palace launch pad.  
  
He had only four men with him, but his band remained hidden, and he could choose when and where he would strike. The Jedi protectors had proved themselves worthy and dangerous adversaries, but now one of them, the older, more experienced one of the two, was leaving the planet. Which meant that only the younger one remained to guard the Senator.  
  
His final orders had been to cause disruption on Naboo, and the larger operation's purpose was to in turn cause disruption in the Republic's government. Thus, how better to further the plan by assassinating the Senator? The young Jedi was formidable, but one shot would be all that was necessary, and he would be up against five to one odds.  
  
He removed the uniform from the dead Guard and donned stolen civilian clothes, returning to his men to plan for their final mission.  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan arrived at the bustling spaceport in the Malastare capital, which was heavily guarded by soldiers following the Senator's loss. Clearly, he saw, the Malastare government wasn't taking any unnecessary chances.  
  
His contact, a large Gran in the uniform of a General, awaited him at the Jedi fighter's landing pad.  
  
"Greetings, Jedi Kenobi," the General said. "I am Lieutenant General Aak Noor. Pleased to have you here."  
  
The Jedi shook the large alien's hand, relieved that the General spoke fluent basic, thus precluding the need for a pesky protocol droid interpreter.  
  
"I was informed you would be sent here to investigate," Noor continued. "Have you made any breakthroughs on Coruscant?"  
  
"Perhaps we can go somewhere less.conspicuous," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
"Certainly," Noor said, leading Kenobi through the hangar bay's rear entrance into his office.  
  
"At this point we are unsure as to the precise cause, but the evidence strongly suggest the Senator's hyperdrive may have been tampered with. I have a suspicion a saboteur in your maintenance facility may have been involved."  
  
The General registered shock and anger in his trio of eyestalks. "I assure you, I take great pains in reviewing the backgrounds of all the personnel here, Jedi. I have always taken the security of the Senator extremely seriously, and if you are trying to imply that this is somehow my own fault and not that of the assassins."  
  
Obi-Wan cut him off. "I am not here to place blame, General, merely to find facts. I have no doubt that you and your men have conducted yourself in the standards expected of your profession, but surely anyone capable of assassinating a Republic Senator must be possessed of uncommonly large resources."  
  
The General softened - only slightly. "Very well, Jedi. I apologize, but you must understand how I feel in this position. Now - what can I do to help you? I will make my full resources available, if it will lead to the discovery of those responsible."  
  
"Certainly, General. If I can acquire access to your personell records of the maintenance crews assigned to VIP transports, I believe I will start there."  
  
"Come with me," the General said. "I'll hook you up to a terminal connecting to our databanks."  
  
The two boarded a turbolift, descending several floors underground to the Operations Center of the hangar and military base. Noor led Obi-wan through several corridors to a large room filled with computer terminals.  
  
"Here is the main access node to our database networks," the General said. He pointed to a silver protocol droid. "TC-19, this man is a Jedi Knight investigating the Senator's death. You will assist him in the interface with our networks and provide him with my personal access codes should he require them."  
  
"Certainly, sir," the droid replied. "If you will come this way, Master Kenobi," he said, leading him to one of the terminal stations.  
  
"TC-19, bring up the personnel files on all maintenance crew in the Senator's hangar starting one standard month before the attack. I believe I will begin there."  
  
Dressed as a Palace Guard, Lieutenant 143241 had conducted a thorough reconnaissance of the Theed Palace, and at last, he had found a likely point of ambushing the Senator.  
  
In the vast courtyard of the beautiful, grand structure was an elaborate garden. Begun two hundred Standard years before by King Amila shortly after the Palace was finished, it had remained as a fixture of serenity and beauty, and a favorite place of quiet contemplation by Naboo monarchs ever since.  
  
And with its trees, hedgerows, fountains, and statuary, the Lieutenant saw, it offered any potential attacker who could penetrate the Palace an excellent place for an ambush.  
  
The guards seemed to know their business, but were mainly deployed around the routes of ingress and the outer perimeter of the Palace.  
  
Which meant most of the inner areas of the building, notably the Gardens, were nearly unguarded. He only noticed four sentries on duty throughout the sprawling courtyard - his men, also dressed as Guards, could take them by surprise easily. And furthermore, every afternoon, at midday, the Senator, accompanied by the Jedi and three of her Handmaidens took a long stroll through the garden.  
  
This would be where he would ambush her.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes hurt with the strain of spending several long hours staring at data readouts, with little in the way of positive results. He got up from the terminal, stretching stiff muscles and rubbing his sore eyes, and focused the Force to alleviate his pounding headache.  
  
"Are you alright, Master Jedi?" TC-19 asked.  
  
The protocol droid, like all of his kind, Obi-Wan reflected, could try even a Jedi's patience after long periods of close proximity.  
  
"I'm just a bit tired. Nothing to worry about."  
  
"Are you sure? I could bring you some stim tea if you like."  
  
"I assure you, I am quite fine," Obi-Wan interrupted him.  
  
Half an hour later, he had found what he was looking for.  
  
He had decided to look into the transport's maintenance log and had discovered an interesting piece of evidence: the hyperdrive motivator had been replaced, as was scheduled every 100,000 light years of hyperspace travel.sabotage to the motivator would, he realized, indeed cause the hyperdrive to disengage at a predetermined point along it's route.he then brought up the list of maintenance crew on duty during the replacement, and he tried another tack..he checked the navigation records downloaded from all supply ships for the previous week.  
  
It was at that point that he discovered an anomaly. One of the freighters, the An'yia Rose, a Correlian Engineering transport, showed a pattern on the last three return trips from Coruscant (listed as "procurement of components for Senatorial Transport) which was decidedly odd..two-thirds of the way along the route, the Rose's course diverged to a small planet on the Outer Rim, and for no apparent logical reason. The transport was listed as registered to Seblinda, a Dug employed as an engine mechanic.  
  
It was no secret to anyone who was in any way familiar with Malastare's history that the animosity between the two dominant species, the Gran and the Dug, was legendary. The Dug were regarded as inferior by the ruling Gran, although the current Prime Minister was attempting to institute reforms by employing capable, trusted Dugs of good reputation in the civil service. And Seblinda, like many Dugs, was a good mechanic. His personnel file listed that he had been hired as part of the reform program.Obi Wan wondered.would Seblinda have motivation to sabotage the Gran Senator's government? Had his cooperation been enlisted by those who conspired to assassinate the Senator?  
  
He brought up the navigational chart of the An'yia Rose again, and decided to examine the mysterious diversions to the Outer Rim.his destination was listed as a planet given the name Wayland. Obi-Wan logged into the Jedi Temple's archive network, bringing up the entry on Wayland.  
  
Wayland: Planet in Outer Rim region near System 1149. Standard year: 314 Standard Days; Length of Standard Day: 22.5 Galactic Standard Hours. Two main continents, Southern with subzero year-round climate, Northern landmass largely forested. Habitation: Suitable for humanoid sentients, none known.  
  
He skimmed the rest. Why would the Rose journey to an uninhabited planet in route to Malastare from Coruscant on three separate occasions?  
  
He had found his first lead. 


	16. Chapter 15

Mace Windu and Yoda, along with the Supreme Chancellor, stared at the small holo of Obi-Wan Kenobi.  
  
"I have found a lead on a possible saboteur centering on the planet Wayland. Inform Anakin that I am going there to see if I can find anything. Kenobi out."  
  
The image flickered and dissolved back into the projector.  
  
"I am pleased with your progress," Palpatine said. "The Senate is in severe unrest and I fear many citizens have lost confidence in the government after the attack on Naboo. We must get to the bottom of this soon, or I am afraid our great Republic may be in danger of collapse."  
  
"Don't worry, Supreme Chancellor," Mace replied. "Knight Kenobi is one of the best Jedi we have. If there is a connection, he'll be the one to find it."  
  
***  
  
"Yes, my master?" asked Darth Raptor, kneeling before the projected image of Lord Sidious deep within the center of Mount Tantiss.  
  
"A Jedi is coming to investigate. An old enemy, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I want him utterly destroyed."  
  
"It will give me great pleasure, Master," answered Raptor. It had been Obi- Wan who had defeated his predecessor, Lord Maul. Revenge on such a man would be a pleasing task for a Sith, indeed.  
  
***  
  
The thirty six hours in the confines of the small cockpit would have been nearly intolerable had not Obi-Wan put himself into a hibernation trance. At the precise moment his fighter left hyperspace near Wayland, he regained consciousness. He reached down and pulled the lever to disengage the fighter's ring-shaped hyperdrive module and vectored onto a course that would bring him into the planet's atmosphere.  
  
***  
  
Raptor's comlink beeped moments later.  
  
"Lord Raptor, this is control, an unidentified fighter has penetrated our airspace in sector 1405 Alpha"  
  
"Launch a squadron to intercept and destroy, Commander."  
  
***  
  
Obi-Wan scanned his sensor readouts, and was surprised to see a massive reading on his emissions detector. He performed a vector analysis and strangely enough, it seemed to be coming from the direction of the large mountain he had seen rising from the forests. Obi-Wan began looking for a gap in the trees of suitable size to land, when suddenly a shrill threat warning alarm jerked his gaze to his sensors, and then to the sky around him.  
  
There were twelve small specks approaching him head on, spread out line abreast, and closing fast. Suddenly, a stream of blaster cannon fire erupted from the lead ship's wingtips, and Obi-Wan threw the Jedi fighter into a tight corkscrew, evading the shots, simultaneously adding power to his front shields. As one of the enemy fighters flashed by his canopy only a few dozen meters away, he got a good look at the strange craft.  
  
It was blood-red, with angular lines, sharply swept wings, canted vertical stabilizers, and on each wingtip was a prominent blaster cannon.  
  
He swore under his breath. He was a good pilot, as most Jedi were, but even the best flier could not have much hope for surviving long against twelve to one odds. And somehow he had to find a way to get onto the surface in one piece if he was going to complete his reconnaissance of the planet. He angled the nose down as the hostile starfighters had come about and were closing on his tail. At the last minute, he pulled sharply upward on the controls and the fighter leveled out only meters above the forest canopy. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him.  
  
He backed off the throttle and pumped power into the rear deflectors. As the lead enemy fighter drew into range, he hit the main fuel dump valve and at the same time, braced himself and slid his left hand over the ejector seat's activation handle. Concentrating intently on the image of the enemy fighter in the Force, he pulled the EV lever not a moment too late.  
  
A blaster shot from the enemy craft passed directly under the Jedi fighter. The superheated bolt was in contact with the fuel dumped from the main tanks only for a second, but it quickly ignited the volatile emulsion, and the explosion rapidly progressed towards the ship's hull as more fuel ignited until it reached the fuel feed lines, and finally, the main tank itself.  
  
The Jedi fighter vanished in a tremendous flash, blinding its pursuers, who rapidly veered out of the way of the flying debris. None saw Obi-Wan eject.  
  
The Jedi strained against the massive acceleration as the rocket underneath his seat threw him clear of the fighter, and then suddenly there was a massive explosion and accompanying shockwave which struck him like a hammer blow, and then nothing but blackness.  
  
***  
  
"Enemy craft has been destroyed" the comlink buzzed.  
  
"Excellent," replied Raptor. "But I want confirmation that Kenobi is dead. Send a company of infantry to the crash site, I'm not taking any chances."  
  
**  
  
He found her on her favorite balcony, the one overlooking the cliffs with their magnificent waterfalls. He paused, taking in the sight of her. Her back was turned to him, her hands clutching the stone railing. A white robe covered her nightdress, and her beautiful hair hung loosely, for once unencumbered by one of her usual elaborate styles.  
  
He did not want to seem intrusive but could sense the aura of sadness in her presence. He hesitated for a moment before silently approaching her.  
  
"Is everything alright milady?" he asked, mentally berating himself for asking such an idiotic question.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," she replied. "And what are you doing out here so late?" she asked.  
  
"I was standing watch, milady," he replied. "Jedi can perform most of the restorative functions of sleep through meditation." He paused for a moment. "Would you like to talk about it?"  
  
She took a deep breath before speaking. "I was wondering if it was all worth it," she said, staring out into the night. "I've spent my entire life training for politics. Somehow, I led myself to believe that a leader with courage and convictions could actually make a difference. But I have made far too many enemies, and now what have once been petty personal grudges have turned into this," she said sadly, gesturing out towards the ruined city.  
  
"Don't go blaming yourself," he answered. "If it had not been for your courage your people and other peaceful star systems like Naboo would still be under the control of the Trade Federation."  
  
"But that decision has brought Naboo even more suffering than the Viceroy's army could have ever hoped to inflict," she said, her voice rising with frustration." She fixed him with a sharp glance. "Sixty thousand dead. A hundred thousand injured. Eirtae and Yane dead. THAT has been the price for my integrity! I've failed them, Anakin." Her gaze drifted off into the distance again. "I've failed them all."  
  
In a blur of movement he grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him, forcing her to look at him. His voice, though barely above a whisper, was edged with intensity. "Don't you say that! Don't you EVER say that."  
  
He let go of her, his voice softening. "I remember when I first met you. One of the things I found so amazing was how strong and courageous you were. I know you don't feel that way now, but you have to realize that you can't always control everything. You can't protect everyone."  
  
He turned and looked away from her. His hands gripped the railing, his knuckles white. When he spoke again his voice was strained and subdued.  
  
"I also remember what you said when my mother died. That I could not spend my life wondering what might have happened if only I had done something differently. And I'm saying the same thing to you now." He paused for a moment, contemplative. "The people to blame for this atrocity are the ones who are behind it. And I promise you that the Jedi will do everything that we can to eliminate this threat. He turned back to her, his eyes suddenly icy gray, his face displaying that frightening intensity that seemed to come and go at a moment's notice. "They will pay for what they have done. All of them." He paused again, looking away, seeming to collect himself. "But until that happens you have to remain strong." He looked at her again, with the same intensity and sincerity. "Your people love you. They need you. And I know you won't let them down. You never have."  
  
"Thank you," she said, the warmth in her eyes returning for the first time in days. "I needed to hear that."  
  
Neither spoke for several moments, seemingly lost in thought. At last Padme broke the silence, her voice wistful.  
  
"Sometimes I wish things were simpler. I never hadhad the luxury of enjoying my youth. I never had that freedom, that innocence. I feel like I've done nothing but exhaust myself fighting immovable objects." Anakin could sense her growing frustration, present since she had first spoken, increase through the Force. "Even if I manage to help get a proposal through the Senate, I still feel like I haven't really gotten anywhere." She looked at him. "I envy you, Ani. The Jedi are out in the forefront of things, you can see the results of your efforts. It must be incredibly fulfilling."  
  
"It isn't always like that." He said, shaking his head. "I've been told I have the ability to be a great Jedi. to bring 'balance to the Force...'" Shrugging his shoulders he looked out over the city. "Whatever that means." He shook his head. "I can't help feeling like I'm being held back, that I should be doing more."  
  
"Are you unsatisfied with your assignment here? I know protecting me has put you in a great deal of danger lately with little in return. Perhaps you can petition the Council."  
  
"No!" he interrupted, almost desperate. "No, it's not that at all  
  
She turned to look at him. "But I can tell something's bothering you." He looked away from her, wishing to hide his discomfiture. "I can't sense thoughts like you can, but I know something's been on your mind ever since you saw me, and you're not telling me."  
  
He forced himself to look at her. "I'm.I'm letting personal considerations interfere with the mission."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, concerned.  
  
He turned away for a moment, staring out into the darkness again. He knew precisely where the conversation was leading, and more importantly, the consequences the outcome might take. He was faced with either a broken heart or deliberately, intentionally defying the Jedi Order, which forbid romantic attachment in any form. But at the moment, she was so tantalizingly close to him, and in dire need of comfort, of happiness, of any sort of distraction from the hell she was going through, while Obi-Wan and the Council were thousands of light-years away.  
  
He was silent for a moment, still looking away from her. "I had not expected to ever see you again. I remember I was spellbound the first time we met. Over the last ten years I kept thinking the memory of you would go away, but I would always find myself thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing, what you might be thinking, if you still remembered me." Finally, once he had found the courage to speak and felt unable to stop himself, he turned to look at her again. "And then I found out I was assigned to protect you. I hadn't prepared myself for the reality of seeing you again."  
  
"And have I changed, from how you remember me?"  
  
He moved closer, staring into her eyes, contemplating their depths.  
  
"Yes," he said. "You're everything I remember and more."  
  
Slowly he took her hands, his hands slowly traveled up the length of her arms as he pulled her to him, bending his head towards hers. He felt her shiver, and for a moment he wondered if his legs would give out beneath him entirely. She closed her eyes moments before their lips met. The kiss was tentative, questioning, until she responded, welcoming him. Encouraged, he deepened the kiss. It was slow, deep, full of tenderness and empathy for shared pain. Neither hungry nor desperate but passionate nonetheless. Profound, startling in both intensity and sincerity. For a moment time seemed to stop, the chaotic events of politics and death stood aside, and there was only the refreshing solace of two understanding souls.  
  
**  
  
Darth Sidious watched the Jedi and Senator in his mind's eye, a shiver running through his body as he sensed the heated passion and raw power in the young man. The young Skywalker had first captured his interest a decade ago, when he sensed how strong the Force was with the nine-year-old boy who had destroyed a huge battleship without even knowing what he was doing at the time.  
  
And now, he realized, the possibility of possessing and corrupting the young man, of having such a powerful apprentice, was moving ever closer into the realm of probability.  
  
It had been quite simple enough to form a detailed impression of young Skywalker's presence in the Force when he and his Master had arrived on Coruscant in Senator Naberrie's quarters. Ever since then, Sidious had surreptitiously crept into Anakin's dreams, instilling the beginnings of doubt and fear into his mind. And now, the beautiful young Senator had, he realized, formed another distraction for Anakin. His feelings for her, he knew, could all too easily jeopardize his commitment to the Order. And the Jedi hadn't a clue that a Dark Lord of the Sith had been operating right under their nose in the guise of the affable gentleman who had been elected the Republic's Supreme Chancellor.  
  
Nikoli Palpatine was a respected, distinguished colonel in the Naboo Royal Starfighter Corps. It was thought that his wife, Kira, was unable to have children when, much to the surprise and delight of she and her husband, she discovered she was pregnant. Their son, Ruk, proved to be possessed of a brilliant mind, but as things occasionally happened in the galaxy, the Jedi had not noticed Ruk Palpatine possessed a not insignificant strength in the Force, for Naboo was a relatively closed, isolationist planet at the time. The young man decided early on he wished to enter the service like his father, and had, after graduating from an elite Naboo secondary school with high honors, scored one of the highest marks in the history of the Republic Fleet Academy's entrance examinations.  
  
He had graduated first in his class from the Academy, and rose rapidly through the ranks due to his remarkable intuition (which he believed was just that, he was unaware of his power in the Force) during training excercises and skirmishes with pirates and smugglers. His commanding officers noticed an uncanny ability in the young officer, who seemed to be able to predict the intentions of an opponent with phenomenal accuracy.  
  
At the remarkably young age of thirty, he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and given a command of his own, the frigate Audacious. And then his life changed forever.  
  
The Audacious had been ordered by Palpatine's commanding officer, the Admiral of 7th Fleet, to meet with representatives of the government of the Outer Rim planet Teslo IV. The monarchial government of the planet had been thrown into chaos when a group of rebels, wishing to institute a democratic government, had taken up arms and plunged Teslo IV into a bitter civil war. The King, who was a good friend of the 7th Fleet's Commanding Officer, had pleaded with the Republic for intervention.  
  
However, when the Audacious arrived on the planet's surface, a large party of rebels, headed by a vicious warlord, had ambushed the ship and taken the 300-man crew prisoner. The enlisted men were executed immediately, and the officers thrown into confinement. There they were starved, beaten, forced to live in appalling conditions, and subjected to countless horrible forms of torture and interrogation.  
  
Lieutenant Commander Palpatine, ever resourceful, and determined to escape and send word to the Fleet, had surreptitiously dug a tunnel leading outside from the floor of his cell. On the evening he intended to escape, his cellmate, the ship's Executive Officer and a good friend of Palpatine's, had been taken from their tiny, filthy cell for further interrogation. Palpatine decided to wait, intending to bring his XO with him during the escape. Hours later, his friend was shoved back into the cell, nearly at the point of collapse. When Palpatine rushed to him, he saw something which would haunt him for years afterward.  
  
The man's eyes had been gouged out.  
  
Palpatine, carrying the semi-conscious form of his executive officer, had made his escape, making his way through kilometers of dense forest in a pitch-black, frigid winter night, with only his intuition to guide him. In the distance he heard mounted cavalry pursuing him, and he came to the bank of a stream. He plunged into the icy water, where every second was terrible agony to his bruised, tired, tortured body, but somehow managed, carrying his friend with him, to swim across the swiftly flowing stream to the opposite bank.  
  
It was there that his good friend, a loyal, competent officer, with a beautiful wife and a young son, had died in his arms, begging him not to tell his wife of the horrors which had been inflicted on him.  
  
Palpatine, beyond exhaustion, collapsed on the riverbank, awakening when the muzzle of a blaster rifle prodded him in the back. Several rebel troops were standing around him. He had finally resigned himself to his fate when suddenly, a black-robed figure shot out of the underbrush and, wielding a brilliant red lightsaber, had cut down the entire patrol in less than a minute.  
  
The strange figure carried Palpatine, on the edge of death, to a palatial residence, where he slowly healed his broken body. He was given a transport, and rushed back to 7th Fleet headquarters to speak to his commanding officer about the fate of his ship and crew.  
  
However, he learned, to his horror, that the Senate refused to authorize the Fleet to send a rescue mission for the Audacious survivors. Furious, Palpatine resigned from the Fleet in protest and returned to Naboo, where he lived quietly, haunted by his memories.  
  
A year later, however, he was visited by the strange man who rescued him again. There he learned that his rescuer was a Baron of Teslo IV's royalty, and when the warlords had taken control of the planet, he had fled to spare his life. As it turned out, the man was well-connected in the Republic, and there Palpatine learned why his crew had been written off.  
  
A powerful Senator, as it turned out, had held a controlling share in a Corellian firm which manufactured weapons and military equipment. The corporation was providing arms to the Rebels, and several other Senators, and even the Supreme Chancellor, held large investments in the corporation as well. Fearing that they would be exposed should the war be ended abruptly, they had sacrificed the frigate's crew and her promising young captain.  
  
Palpatine was utterly furious, doubly so when he learned that a member of the Jedi Council had also urged the Chancellor not to intervene in the conflict, condemning the Audacious' original mission - the Jedi believed that the civil war represented the planet's right to self-determination, guaranteed under the Republic Constitution.  
  
At this point the Baron suggested something - Palpatine was popular on Naboo for his resignation and apparent devotion to his men, while the Senate was viewed as corrupt - why not enter politics, the man suggested, where he could make policy himself rather than become another sacrificial pawn in a corrupt game.  
  
So he ran for position of Governor of Theed, and was elected by a huge majority. The Baron came to reside on Naboo, and there he began to convince Palpatine to explore his latent abilities in the Force, to aid his political career. Shortly after, the Baron convinced him to run for Senator, and after a hard-fought election, Palpatine emerged victorious. He soon became a member of the Interplanetary Relations Committee, which focused on legislation impacting the at times turbulent disputes between the Republic's member systems. There he learned his Force abilities helped him gauge the true intentions and desires of ambassadors and negotiators, as well as his fellow Senators. He was mortified by what he sensed - corruption, greed, duplicity everywhere.  
  
He spoke to his friend and aide the Baron about what he had seen, and there the Baron had explained to him that he, Palpatine, could eventually become, via use of his powers, the leader which the Republic needed. A strong leader.  
  
And then he told him about the Sith.  
  
He explained that the Sith were a horribly maligned order, but in truth, well versed in realpolitik. All sentients were corrupt and motivated by self-interest, and desired power and wealth. The Sith were aimed at bringing order not via the foolish idealism of the Jedi, but instead, manipulation was merely a means to an end.  
  
Palpatine was at first mortified, but realized that if he wished for such incidents as the fate of his crew to never happen again, the power he was offered might be put to use. However, little did he know that such power came at a terrible price, and eventually came to be not a means to an end, but an end in itself.  
  
Shortly after, the head of the Correllian arms firm had been found dead, his body burned to a crisp by some strange, unknown source. No suspects were ever named. Many more of those involved in the Teslo IV scandal suffered a similar fate, and again, there was never enough evidence to name a suspect.  
  
Palpatine knew such idealism of his youth was foolish. The old, corrupt regime would have to be dispensed with, and quickly. So he had instituted a plan. Using the Trade Federation and the taxation bill, he had manipulated the Nemoidians into blockading and occupying Naboo, thus maneuvering him into the Chancellor's seat. The next step was to create a calamity of such magnitude that the populace would lose faith in the Senate entirely, and look to one man - the Supreme Chancellor - for leadership. Thus entered the Mandalorians. As a Sith, he promised Fett conquest, while as Chancellor, he would vow to defeat the enemy which threatened the Republic. Of course, he had no intention of letting the Mandalorian forces win the war, and thus he had ordered the Victory class ships commissioned and Admiral Haas, a coarse but brilliant officer, put in command of the Fleet.  
  
He had also come to learn that true power in the Force was not skill with a lightsaber or lifting rocks, but instead, to see inside the soul of his foes, and promise them all they desired.for motivated beings were so much more effective.  
  
And he now knew what Anakin Skywalker desired.much like himself at a young age, he wanted power, he wanted to change things.  
  
And soon, indeed, as Sidious' next apprentice, he would effect great change indeed.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Suddenly, she pulled away, hurling them back into reality and leaving him stunned.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Anakin," she said.  
  
"You're.sorry?" he asked, incredulous.  
  
"I should go. I don't think this was wise."  
  
"But. you can't. he stammered. "Can you deny that there's something between us?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Anakin..but I have no other choice," she said, her voice, he realized, however, held a hint of regret.  
  
With that, she left.  
  
He stood unmoving as he watched her leave. His emotions were in too much turmoil to allow him to reply. He closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the kiss remembering the taste of her. Savoring it. He felt kilometers above the ground. Remembering her reply, however, he felt himself plummeting in freefall and dreading the eventual landing.  
  
He opened his eyes again, reluctantly, as the sensation passed. He loved her. What else mattered? Love was the only honesty, all else was merely an excuse. Did she truly think of herself so little? He wondered why she refused to see it. If she didn't allow herself to love, or to be loved in return, to follow her heart, to not be afraid to live, she would not survive. And neither would he.  
  
Anger and frustration came welling up inside of him again as he spun on his heel, walking away from the balcony rail, from the place he knew which would forever haunt him. How could she abandon him like this? Would she too break his heart, adding to the misery heaped upon him? Could she truly be so willfully blind? Was she so foolish to think that love could ever be tamed by reason?  
  
The anger swelled. He paused, noticing a beautiful floral arrangement in a polished vase. He let the anger fill him, let it surge from him in dark, rippling waves. The flowers suddenly wilted, crumbling to dust, and the vase exploded into a thousand tiny shards. And then he was himself again.  
  
The Dark Side, he knew. He had let himself give in momentarily. He mentally reproached himself for the failure. Yet at the same time he could not quite banish the feeling of satisfaction, of awe, the barest hint of the sort of power he had again tasted, if only so briefly.  
  
***  
  
  
  
She found little sleep that night, instead feeling herself tossed and turned in a sea of conflicting emotions and desires. She could not deny her feelings for him, but that was no longer the issue. She knew they were treading dangerous ground. Weakness of the will was not something either of them could afford. Not now.  
  
She had no time to fall in love.  
  
***  
  
Sidious watched him storm away, shivering once more as he felt the intensity of Skywalker's anger and frustration. He sensed conflict, but he knew that the young man's subconscious, which held his hidden desires, had enjoyed yet another glimpse of the power it craved. Slowly, but surely, he was moving toward his true destiny.  
  
"In time," he said softly, "you will call me Master." 


	17. Chapter 16

Darth Sidious watched the Jedi and Senator in his mind's eye, a shiver running through his body as he sensed the heated passion and raw power in the young man. The young Skywalker had first captured his interest a decade ago, when he sensed how strong the Force was with the nine-year-old boy who had destroyed a huge battleship without even knowing what he was doing at the time.  
  
And now, he realized, the possibility of possessing and corrupting the young man, of having such a powerful apprentice, was moving ever closer into the realm of probability.  
  
It had been quite simple enough to form a detailed impression of young Skywalker's presence in the Force when he and his Master had arrived on Coruscant in Senator Naberrie's quarters. Ever since then, Sidious had surreptitiously crept into Anakin's dreams, instilling the beginnings of doubt and fear into his mind. And now, the beautiful young Senator had, he realized, formed another distraction for Anakin. His feelings for her, he knew, could all too easily jeopardize his commitment to the Order. And the Jedi hadn't a clue that a Dark Lord of the Sith had been operating right under their nose in the guise of the affable gentleman who had been elected the Republic's Supreme Chancellor.  
  
Nikoli Palpatine was a respected, distinguished colonel in the Naboo Royal Starfighter Corps. It was thought that his wife, Kira, was unable to have children when, much to the surprise and delight of she and her husband, she discovered she was pregnant. Their son, Ruk, proved to be possessed of a brilliant mind, but as things occasionally happened in the galaxy, the Jedi had not noticed Ruk Palpatine possessed a not insignificant strength in the Force, for Naboo was a relatively closed, isolationist planet at the time. The young man decided early on he wished to enter the service like his father, and had, after graduating from an elite Naboo secondary school with high honors, scored one of the highest marks in the history of the Republic Fleet Academy's entrance examinations.  
  
He had graduated first in his class from the Academy, and rose rapidly through the ranks due to his remarkable intuition (which he believed was just that, he was unaware of his power in the Force) during training excercises and skirmishes with pirates and smugglers. His commanding officers noticed an uncanny ability in the young officer, who seemed to be able to predict the intentions of an opponent with phenomenal accuracy.  
  
At the remarkably young age of thirty, he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and given a command of his own, the frigate Audacious. And then his life changed forever.  
  
The Audacious had been ordered by Palpatine's commanding officer, the Admiral of 7th Fleet, to meet with representatives of the government of the Outer Rim planet Teslo IV. The monarchial government of the planet had been thrown into chaos when a group of rebels, wishing to institute a democratic government, had taken up arms and plunged Teslo IV into a bitter civil war. The King, who was a good friend of the 7th Fleet's Commanding Officer, had pleaded with the Republic for intervention.  
  
However, when the Audacious arrived on the planet's surface, a large party of rebels, headed by a vicious warlord, had ambushed the ship and taken the 300-man crew prisoner. The enlisted men were executed immediately, and the officers thrown into confinement. There they were starved, beaten, forced to live in appalling conditions, and subjected to countless horrible forms of torture and interrogation.  
  
Lieutenant Commander Palpatine, ever resourceful, and determined to escape and send word to the Fleet, had surreptitiously dug a tunnel leading outside from the floor of his cell. On the evening he intended to escape, his cellmate, the ship's Executive Officer and a good friend of Palpatine's, had been taken from their tiny, filthy cell for further interrogation. Palpatine decided to wait, intending to bring his XO with him during the escape. Hours later, his friend was shoved back into the cell, nearly at the point of collapse. When Palpatine rushed to him, he saw something which would haunt him for years afterward.  
  
The man's eyes had been gouged out.  
  
Palpatine, carrying the semi-conscious form of his executive officer, had made his escape, making his way through kilometers of dense forest in a pitch-black, frigid winter night, with only his intuition to guide him. In the distance he heard mounted cavalry pursuing him, and he came to the bank of a stream. He plunged into the icy water, where every second was terrible agony to his bruised, tired, tortured body, but somehow managed, carrying his friend with him, to swim across the swiftly flowing stream to the opposite bank.  
  
It was there that his good friend, a loyal, competent officer, with a beautiful wife and a young son, had died in his arms, begging him not to tell his wife of the horrors which had been inflicted on him.  
  
Palpatine, beyond exhaustion, collapsed on the riverbank, awakening when the muzzle of a blaster rifle prodded him in the back. Several rebel troops were standing around him. He had finally resigned himself to his fate when suddenly, a black-robed figure shot out of the underbrush and, wielding a brilliant red lightsaber, had cut down the entire patrol in less than a minute.  
  
The strange figure carried Palpatine, on the edge of death, to a palatial residence, where he slowly healed his broken body. He was given a transport, and rushed back to 7th Fleet headquarters to speak to his commanding officer about the fate of his ship and crew.  
  
However, he learned, to his horror, that the Senate refused to authorize the Fleet to send a rescue mission for the Audacious survivors. Furious, Palpatine resigned from the Fleet in protest and returned to Naboo, where he lived quietly, haunted by his memories.  
  
A year later, however, he was visited by the strange man who rescued him again. There he learned that his rescuer was a Baron of Teslo IV's royalty, and when the warlords had taken control of the planet, he had fled to spare his life. As it turned out, the man was well-connected in the Republic, and there Palpatine learned why his crew had been written off.  
  
A powerful Senator, as it turned out, had held a controlling share in a Corellian firm which manufactured weapons and military equipment. The corporation was providing arms to the Rebels, and several other Senators, and even the Supreme Chancellor, held large investments in the corporation as well. Fearing that they would be exposed should the war be ended abruptly, they had sacrificed the frigate's crew and her promising young captain.  
  
Palpatine was utterly furious, doubly so when he learned that a member of the Jedi Council had also urged the Chancellor not to intervene in the conflict, condemning the Audacious' original mission - the Jedi believed that the civil war represented the planet's right to self-determination, guaranteed under the Republic Constitution.  
  
At this point the Baron suggested something - Palpatine was popular on Naboo for his resignation and apparent devotion to his men, while the Senate was viewed as corrupt - why not enter politics, the man suggested, where he could make policy himself rather than become another sacrificial pawn in a corrupt game.  
  
So he ran for position of Governor of Theed, and was elected by a huge majority. The Baron came to reside on Naboo, and there he began to convince Palpatine to explore his latent abilities in the Force, to aid his political career. Shortly after, the Baron convinced him to run for Senator, and after a hard-fought election, Palpatine emerged victorious. He soon became a member of the Interplanetary Relations Committee, which focused on legislation impacting the at times turbulent disputes between the Republic's member systems. There he learned his Force abilities helped him gauge the true intentions and desires of ambassadors and negotiators, as well as his fellow Senators. He was mortified by what he sensed - corruption, greed, duplicity everywhere.  
  
He spoke to his friend and aide the Baron about what he had seen, and there the Baron had explained to him that he, Palpatine, could eventually become, via use of his powers, the leader which the Republic needed. A strong leader.  
  
And then he told him about the Sith.  
  
He explained that the Sith were a horribly maligned order, but in truth, well versed in realpolitik. All sentients were corrupt and motivated by self-interest, and desired power and wealth. The Sith were aimed at bringing order not via the foolish idealism of the Jedi, but instead, manipulation was merely a means to an end.  
  
Palpatine was at first mortified, but realized that if he wished for such incidents as the fate of his crew to never happen again, the power he was offered might be put to use. However, little did he know that such power came at a terrible price, and eventually came to be not a means to an end, but an end in itself.  
  
Shortly after, the head of the Correllian arms firm had been found dead, his body burned to a crisp by some strange, unknown source. No suspects were ever named. Many more of those involved in the Teslo IV scandal suffered a similar fate, and again, there was never enough evidence to name a suspect.  
  
Palpatine knew such idealism of his youth was foolish. The old, corrupt regime would have to be dispensed with, and quickly. So he had instituted a plan. Using the Trade Federation and the taxation bill, he had manipulated the Nemoidians into blockading and occupying Naboo, thus maneuvering him into the Chancellor's seat. The next step was to create a calamity of such magnitude that the populace would lose faith in the Senate entirely, and look to one man - the Supreme Chancellor - for leadership. Thus entered the Mandalorians. As a Sith, he promised Fett conquest, while as Chancellor, he would vow to defeat the enemy which threatened the Republic. Of course, he had no intention of letting the Mandalorian forces win the war, and thus he had ordered the Victory class ships commissioned and Admiral Haas, a coarse but brilliant officer, put in command of the Fleet.  
  
He had also come to learn that true power in the Force was not skill with a lightsaber or lifting rocks, but instead, to see inside the soul of his foes, and promise them all they desired.for motivated beings were so much more effective.  
  
And he now knew what Anakin Skywalker desired.much like himself at a young age, he wanted power, he wanted to change things.  
  
And soon, indeed, as Sidious' next apprentice, he would effect great change indeed.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Suddenly, she pulled away, hurling them back into reality and leaving him stunned.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Anakin," she said.  
  
"You're.sorry?" he asked, incredulous.  
  
"I should go. I don't think this was wise."  
  
"But. you can't. he stammered. "Can you deny that there's something between us?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Anakin..but I have no other choice," she said, her voice, he realized, however, held a hint of regret.  
  
With that, she left.  
  
He stood unmoving as he watched her leave. His emotions were in too much turmoil to allow him to reply. He closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the kiss remembering the taste of her. Savoring it. He felt kilometers above the ground. Remembering her reply, however, he felt himself plummeting in freefall and dreading the eventual landing.  
  
He opened his eyes again, reluctantly, as the sensation passed. He loved her. What else mattered? Love was the only honesty, all else was merely an excuse. Did she truly think of herself so little? He wondered why she refused to see it. If she didn't allow herself to love, or to be loved in return, to follow her heart, to not be afraid to live, she would not survive. And neither would he.  
  
Anger and frustration came welling up inside of him again as he spun on his heel, walking away from the balcony rail, from the place he knew which would forever haunt him. How could she abandon him like this? Would she too break his heart, adding to the misery heaped upon him? Could she truly be so willfully blind? Was she so foolish to think that love could ever be tamed by reason?  
  
The anger swelled. He paused, noticing a beautiful floral arrangement in a polished vase. He let the anger fill him, let it surge from him in dark, rippling waves. The flowers suddenly wilted, crumbling to dust, and the vase exploded into a thousand tiny shards. And then he was himself again.  
  
The Dark Side, he knew. He had let himself give in momentarily. He mentally reproached himself for the failure. Yet at the same time he could not quite banish the feeling of satisfaction, of awe, the barest hint of the sort of power he had again tasted, if only so briefly.  
  
***  
  
  
  
She found little sleep that night, instead feeling herself tossed and turned in a sea of conflicting emotions and desires. She could not deny her feelings for him, but that was no longer the issue. She knew they were treading dangerous ground. Weakness of the will was not something either of them could afford. Not now.  
  
She had no time to fall in love.  
  
***  
  
Sidious watched him storm away, shivering once more as he felt the intensity of Skywalker's anger and frustration. He sensed conflict, but he knew that the young man's subconscious, which held his hidden desires, had enjoyed yet another glimpse of the power it craved. Slowly, but surely, he was moving toward his true destiny.  
  
"In time," he said softly, "you will call me Master."  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan came to and found himself in a position which was much more than merely disconcerting. It seemed, he realized, as consciousness returned all too rapidly, that every nerve, cell, and fiber of his body was simultaneously howling in pain. Mind-numbing, searing pain. He opened his eyes only to find that the pounding in his head had somehow increased in both frequency and intensity, although he had not believed it possible.  
  
Images - distorted as they were, and incomplete - were slowly beginning to return to him. Waking up with a concussion after his damaged repulsor coils in the ejection seat had ensured a fast and jarring ride through several dozen meters of tree branches, lying on the forest floor, still strapped in his ejector seat and seeing a large, gray, armored foot in front of his eyes, then feeling the pain of a rifle butt smashing into his temple. Being hauled to his feet and kicked and punched repeatedly by armored boots and fists. Being dragged several kilometers along the forest floor and into a cavern at the base of the large mountain he had seen from the air.  
  
He began to recall other such images, similarly unpleasant. Gradually, he was able to gather his concentration to pierce the overwhelming pain and disorientation caused by Force-only-knew what chemicals were no doubt in his system, and inventory his surroundings. As his eyes began to focus, he found himself in a small room, with perfectly smooth walls, lit with harsh, bright, and unbearably hot lights. He realized he was somehow suspended above the floor, at roughly a forty-five degree angle. His wrists and ankles were shackled, and in front of him, a eyelet in the ceiling through which the chain attatched to his manacles passed through and connected to a winch on the floor, so he was stretched tight. Horribly, uncomfortably tight, so that his restraints dug painfully into his skin, his shoulders burned like fire, and even drawing breath was uncomfortable.  
  
He realized he had been stripped to the waist, and after maneuvering his head, could see that his chest and stomach were severely bruised - more beatings, no doubt. Distantly, another flash of memory connected the sensation of hot needles embedded in his back to being whipped, repeatedly. He tasted dried blood on his lips, no doubt, he realized, via a short exploration with his tongue, associated with the tear in his lower lip.  
  
Unfortunately, he arrived at the conclusion that whoever his captors were, they knew a thing or two about the Jedi. They were, he knew, causing him to expend his precious reserves in the Force merely keeping himself alive and coherent, or reducing his pain to a bearable level, rather than on any thoughts of escape. Additionally, he lamented, he had been forced to deliberately destroy his starfighter, so that even if he somehow managed to escape, he could very well be stranded on a hostile planet for some time. True, the Jedi would send someone to rescue him, but since his mission was to be conducted with secrecy, they would not expect to hear back from him for several days. And several days in his condition, he knew, could be a long time indeed.  
  
His unpleasant revelations were interrupted moments later by a slamming of the room's huge durasteel door and the entrance of a black robed figure whom he did not recognize, save for the dress, and the unmistakable aura of darkness and evil, bone-chilling in nature, which had never left his mind during the last decade.  
  
His visitor was, without a doubt, of the Sith.  
  
He mentally spewed a string of curses.  
  
Why me? he asked, to no one in particular. 


	18. Chapter 17

Well, after being lax, here's a HUGE update. NOTE: stuff means "things that were in italics but didn't paste in properly."  
  
-Tim  
  
  
  
In my dream I found myself on the same foreboding planet that I had seen before. The sky was an angry red, and volcanoes darkened the sky with distant black smoke, while flowing rivers of glowing orange lava carved through the jagged obsidian ground.  
  
As the air burned my lungs, making me feel as if I were inside a blast furnace, I looked around through the heat-distorted haze and felt a chilling, ominous presence behind me.  
  
A presence with which I was now familiar.  
  
I turned to see the figure, the one with the black robes and glowing red eyes. He stood poised and utterly confident, a lightsaber in his right hand.  
  
"Welcome, young Skywalker," he said. "I have been expecting you."  
  
"What do want?" I asked.  
  
"Only your death, boy," he replied, a scarlet blade appearing from his saber as he charged forward.  
  
Lightsabers clashed, and I found myself being forced back, unable to find an opening which would give me the initiative, to allow him to go on the attack. Instead, his blows were expertly timed, I found myself off balance, allowed only to react. I sensed fear. Fear that I would not survive. I began to channel my fear and frustration towards my enemy, and suddenly I saw an opening. I attacked in fury, but it was clear that he was experienced, that he could defend as well as he attacked. And then he slid his blade along mine, slicing into my right hand. I screamed in pain and dropped the saber, and then a vicious thrust ran through me.  
  
As blackness closed in, I saw the chilling red eyes and heard the sound of laughter.  
  
I had failed.  
  
I was dying.  
  
And I could no longer protect those I loved.   
  
  
  
***  
  
Lord Raptor was furious. Somehow, despite every measure of torture and pain that had been inflicted on him, Obi-Wan Kenobi had refused to reveal the vital information which his Master had ordered him to find.  
  
He knelt in Lord Sidious' chamber, frustrated, angered, and fearful of his Master's wrath.  
  
"What is it, my apprentice?" Sidious asked.  
  
"He has refused to cooperate entirely, my Master,"  
  
"It is of no consequence, my apprentice. He will break soon enough. Obi-Wan is brave, but foolish."  
  
"But what of the Jedi Order? Surely Obi-Wan must have alerted the Council before he departed for Wayland?"  
  
Raptor knew the Sith were powerful, and the huge numbers of troops on Wayland, protected beneath the massive bulk of Mount Tantiss, would decimate most attacking forces, but the plan to destroy the Republic Fleet centered on surprise and taking the initiative. If the Jedi were to learn what Obi-Wan had found, strategic surprise would be impossible, as the Republic would have time to concentrate its powerful but scattered fleet, not to mention the thousands of Jedi Knights. The Sith, he knew, were powerful because they remained hidden, subtle, and anonymous. This was how they had survived, and even, in the recent decade, gained considerable power, despite being grossly outnumbered.  
  
"His mission was to investigate. They will not expect his return for quite some time and will not risk contacting him and revealing his position. This is time, my apprentice, that Obi-Wan does not have. He will break, or he will die. And by the time they begin to be concerned, they will be unable to stop our attack. However, order General Fett to step up loading our troops."  
  
For several days, hundreds of transports had shuttled to and from Mount Tantiss, carrying the massive force of cloned soldiers to gigantic landing ships awaiting with the battle fleet near Planet 2179. In only a few more days, the entire invasion army would be loaded and ready.  
  
***  
  
However, unknown to his acolyte, Sidious had an entirely different scenario in mind regarding his recent captive. No doubt Kenobi would attempt to contact his apprentice, young Skywalker. And Skywalker, courageous and foolish as he was, would attempt to rescue his master.  
  
And thus he, along with the entire government of the Republic, would play right into Sidious' hands.  
  
***  
  
When he awoke, his emotions were in a turmoil, even for Anakin Skywalker. This dream - or vision - was even more frightening and disturbing than the first, and once again the same strange man with the red eyes had appeared. Who is he? Why does he want me dead? Anakin asked himself, though he hadn't the faintest notion of an answer.  
  
Yet it was Padme who occupied the forefront of his thoughts. Her lips, her silky, fragrant hair, the feel of her in his arms, all remembered with perfect clarity.  
  
He wondered for a moment if it had been better had nothing happened at all, for it seemed all the worse to experience a tiny glimpse at bliss, only to have her say it was something she should not have done, should not happen again, and leaving only yet another memory to haunt him.  
  
He knew if Obi-Wan were there the Master would predictably deliver yet another lecture on duty to the Jedi Order and how romantic love was forbidden. Anakin wondered, bitterly, what exactly Obi-Wan truly knew about such a thing. To Anakin, the Jedi insistence on repression of emotions such as love seemed not only impossible, but unnatural, stripping him of the most wonderful prerogative of a sentient being. Did not love come from life itself, and therefore of the Living Force? The Order acknowledged this fact, yet claimed it was not love itself insamuch as the secondary aspects that arose with romantic relationships: possession, desire, jealousy, attachment, and especially commitment, which interfered, it was said, with a Jedi's duty to the Order and to the Republic.  
  
Anakin often felt as if he were being held to a different standard. He had not entered the Jedi in the usual manner, having been directly apprenticed to Master Kenobi at the relatively advanced age of nine. As a result, he often felt that his upbringing and introduction formed a permanent gap between himself and the rest of the Jedi. None among their ranks had been born into slavery or had remembered their mother. He had not the years of indoctrination in controlling is passions which had become ingrained subconsciously in the mind of younger initiates.  
  
Quite simply, he felt very alone.  
  
True, there was Obi-Wan, who was wise, courageous, and disciplined, in all aspects an ideal Jedi, and Anakin had a great deal of admiration and respect for him - but it seemed all to often that Obi-Wan, and the Council as well, forgot, or could not fathom Anakin's singular background. His attatchment to his mother and his tempestuous, passionate nature seemed so often viewed as a potential weakness, or perhaps they viewed him as just another young Padawan, with the arrogance of youth. And sometimes, he felt as if he were being blamed for the consequences of circumstances in his past over which he had no control.  
  
Yet Padme did not seem to agree with this prevailing view. In spite of - or perhaps because - she was not a Jedi, it was she alone who understood him. True, his mother did, and perhaps Qui Gon might have, but they were now gone from his life. She was the only one left. And while he knew his feelings for her jeopardized his future with the Jedi, the abstractions of codes and doctrines seemed to pale in the face of his passions, and how could he deny them? Would he simply wish them away? He knew the idea was impossibly foolish. Faced with a difficult situation, he decided to go on his instincts. And that would mean speaking with her again, even if it resulted in his heart being broken. Yet he saw no acceptable alternative.  
  
For the sake of his sanity, for his emotions, for his need to escape his fears and his nightmares, and the terrible feeling of solitude, he wished that Padme would understand him this time, above all others.  
  
Banishing his thoughts, he cleared his mind and concentrated, attempting to locate her presence within the Palace grounds **  
  
She expected him to come. No, she was certain he would. But that didn't make waiting any less distasteful, given what she had convinced herself during the long, sleepless night must be done. She leaned against the balcony rail, staring into the fiery rising sun, in almost the exact same location where Anakin had kissed her hours before.but she could not, would not let herself dwell on the memory, lest she loose her composure entirely.  
  
Of course, it was at that precise moment when she heard his voice.  
  
"Padme," he said simply.  
  
"Hello, Anakin," she replied, turning to face him. For what seemed like an interminably long moment, neither spoke, though Padme thought the tension between them could have been cut with a lightsaber.  
  
"I am sorry I left so abruptly last night, Anakin," she began, "But you must understand that we did something that we should not have."  
  
"Then you are saying you felt nothing." It was not a question as much as a statement.  
  
"What I felt, Anakin, is irrelevant. You are in training to be a Jedi. I am a Senator. We cannot simply ignore our duty for the sake of our feelings. "  
  
"But you did feel something." He paused for a moment, as though in contemplation. "And what if I wasn't a Jedi, Padme?"  
  
She was momentarily shocked by the question. "Anakin, you yourself told me you were supposedly chosen to bring balance to the Force. Surely, the Jedi need you."  
  
"Yes, I know," he said, suddenly becoming angry "And I am tired of everyone constantly reminding me I am this 'chosen one.' What if I don't want to be?"  
  
"Anakin, don't say that."  
  
"No, Padme, I'm serious!" He paced back and forth, slowly calming himself, until he turned to face her and spoke again, this time as though he was desperate, pleading with her.  
  
"What if I don't want to be a tool of my destiny? What if I just want to be a normal man? Does being chosen mean I must live in misery and die alone? That I lose everyone I love?"  
  
Knowing just how much he had lost so far, she had no easy answer for him. "You don't know that, Anakin. I don't want to hurt you but I couldn't let myself ask you to give up your training just for me." She paused, softening her voice, though she knew she could do little to ease the impact of her words. "I'm sorry, Anakin, but I care too much for you to do that."  
  
He stood silently for a moment, looking at her with a utterly hopeless expression, and she found herself unable to bear looking directly at him. At last, he simply turned on his heel and slowly walked away. Before he dissappeared around the corner to return to his quarters, he turned back to face her again. His voice was icy, betraying very little of the emotion that she knew lied beneath.  
  
"If you truly cared for me, Padme, you wouldn't condemn me to an empty life like this."  
  
She wanted nothing more than to be angry at him, to tell her how much what he had said had truly hurt, but she knew she could not, and she was relieved that his leaving her sight concealed her tears.  
  
**  
  
"It is entirely too late, foolish Jedi. Even now our armies are deploying by the tens of thousands, our fleet is massed in a secret location, and your pathetic Republic hasn't a clue where we shall strike. You cannot stop us! We are the Sith!"   
  
Obi-Wan was exhausted, near delirium, knowing that at best he had a few more days left until his broken, tortured body gave out entirely. Yet the words of the Sith, Raptor, he had called himself, refused to leave his mind.  
  
He had considered Raptor may have merely been feeding him disinformation or had been trying to crush his spirit, but his instincts had told him that this was the truth, and having sensed the sheer size of the installation in which he was now imprisoned, knew that the Sith's claim of a huge fleet and army made up of genetically engineered clones was not only possible, but probable.  
  
I have to escape, he thought. Or at least let someone know what is really going on here.  
  
Temporarily ignoring his agony, he reached out for the familiar, unmistakable sensation of his apprentice, channeled his energy, his concentration, and uttered - no, shouted - a single word through the Force.  
  
***  
  
He did not look back, simply because he could not bear to do so. Although then he remembered he had been assigned to protect her indefinitely and now the prospect of being in close proximity with her seemed more to be endured than enjoyed.  
  
It seemed that in a matter of a little less than a month, his life had fallen apart with frightening rapidity and utterly beyond his control. The visions, his mother's death, Padme.all had happened in so short a time, sending him emotionally reeling.  
  
Is this the pattern of my destiny? He asked himself, though he knew he would find no easy answers - as if there ever were easy answers, he thought bitterly. And worse, he would have to deal with his pain alone, no one could be allowed to know what had happened on that fateful balcony, and the only other person who knew had made her feelings on the matter painfully clear.  
  
He just wished he could return to his quarters, lie down, and when he woke up, be back and the Temple and realize that all of this had been another crazy dream, that none of it had taken place, that he was just another Jedi Padawan in training and things were as close to normal in his life as they had ever been.  
  
But he was fooling no one, especially not himself, with that sort of wishful thinking. Though it was odd, he thought, that he didn't even feel particularly angry anymore, just.tired, and hoping that whatever was going on out there would end and end quickly, so he could recover.that is, if he could really ever recover.  
  
Suddenly, he doubled over as a sensation of excruciating, intolerable, mind- numbing pain pulsed through him out of nowhere. He screamed in agony and felt himself falling forward, the ground rushing up to him with frightening rapidity, and before everything faded to black, he heard in a familiar voice twisted with incredible agony, a clearly discernable word:  
  
"Anakin!!!!!!!"  
  
**  
  
A guard on patrol had noticed the young Jedi suddenly cry out and fall over, and had alerted the entire Palace. A squad of men had carried Anakin to the medical wing and had placed him in a comfortable bed. Padme, horrified, wondering what had happened, or if she were somehow responsible, had remained at his side, watching him. Every now and then he would thrash and moan something about Obi-Wan, though his words were not easily comprehensible.  
  
Suddenly, several hours later, he shot up, at once wide awake, looking at Padme with damp, ruffled hair and wild eyes. "It's Obi-Wan! He's in terrible danger! I have to rescue him!"  
  
Padme started to try to calm him but it was no use, he was already on his feet and heading for the door.  
  
"Anakin, shouldn't you notify the Council?"  
  
"I don't have time!" he said, whirling around to face her. "He will die soon if I don't get to him."  
  
She struggled to keep pace with his massive strides. "Then I am going with you. You're going to need help."  
  
He turned to face her again, perhaps to tell her she should stay out of this, but he saw her determined expression and seemingly thought better of it.  
  
"All right," he replied. "I'm going to need a fast ship and anyone you can bring with you, along with their weapons."  
  
She rushed off, and a few minutes later returned with her three surviving handmaidens and a squad of Naboo infantry under Panaka's nephew, a young lieutenant named Typho, whose unit had been assigned to Padme's ever- increasing list of bodyguards following the attack in the gardens.  
  
"Lieutenant," she said to the young dark-skinned officer, "take your men to the barracks and grab whatever weapons you can carry."  
  
**  
  
Anakin blasted out of the Palace hangar at full throttle, Padme sitting next to him in the navigator's position, as she was a pilot of considerable abilities.  
  
Neither spoke to each other aside from necessary communication in flying the Royal Starship, although Anakin was too preoccupied about his Master, and the pain that he had felt him in, and the shocking weakness of his condition that he had sensed, which for the moment displaced any uncertainty regarding the silence between Padme and himself.  
  
Obi-Wan, fortunately, had given Anakin Wayland's coordinates, and he saw the brilliant blue tunnel of hyperspace vanish and the small, barren planet looming in the cockpit windows.  
  
**  
  
"Lord Raptor, a single vessel is approaching an entry vector," the young duty officer reported.  
  
"It may be Skywalker," the Sith said. "Run a sensor analysis on the ship."  
  
The duty officer pressed a sequence of keys on the sensor scopes and a display of an elegant Nubian J-type yacht appeared on the readout along with detailed specifications regarding the vessel's performance and capabilities.  
  
Raptor knew it had to be Skywalker, and perhaps the Naboo senator was with him. His Master, as always, was right. Sidious had known that Anakin would attempt to rescue Kenobi, and that his rashness would bring the young Jedi directly into his hands. His Master had made it clear that he wanted Anakin alive and undamaged if at all possible.  
  
Raptor, however, had no intention of delivering his Master his own replacement. Since there were only two Sith, Sidious' intentions had not been difficult to divine. Perhaps if something unfortunate were to happen, he would be forced to kill Skywalker.  
  
Such a pity.  
  
"Let him land, Duty Officer. Send up no patrols, give no indication we are aware of his presence."  
  
**  
  
"What is it?" Padme asked him.  
  
He didn't want to tell her about the disturbance he felt, the presence in the Force of that nightmare figure from his visions. But he had sensed it at once, as soon as the Royal Starship had dropped out of hyperspace. That cold, dread chill which seemed to manifest itself in his very depths.  
  
He forced himself not to remember his last vision. He could allow no distraction if he were to save his Master.  
  
Yet those dark, insistent, and entirely too beautiful brown eyes continued to bore into him.  
  
"I think we can rule out simple mechanical failure," he said "otherwise, had my Master found nothing he would have simply asked the Temple to send a rescue ship. There must be something - or someone - down there on that planet."  
  
It was not a lie, but it was by no means the entire truth. He could tell she didn't seem to be entirely satisfied with his explanation, but he would not tell her of the terror he felt, of the horror he had sensed.  
  
"Can the ship survive an unshielded atmospheric entry?" he asked her.  
  
"It should," she replied. "The tail finials were designed as heat sinks for the sublight engines and the hull was extensively modified after the Trade Federation's invasion with military-grade durasteel."  
  
"Good," he said. Military spec durasteel was able to maintain its integrity through a wide range of temperature extremes. "Calculate an orbital entry vector. If there is anyone down there I want to go in quietly. I'll shut down nonessential systems and throttle back the engines, and we may just look like a meteorite on their sensor scopes. Once we get under their sensor net we'll go to full power."  
  
He realized he said this as much to reassure himself as to inform her of any brilliant plan. The space around Wayland was clear and he didn't believe meteorites were a common occurrence, but the Royal Starship was more freighter than fighter, and if whatever was down there had any starfighters or ion cannons, he wasn't going to take any unnecessary chances.  
  
"Two minutes on current course, then down five degrees pitch, then a ten- second burn, maximum thrust," she said.  
  
"Everyone strap in," he said over the com channel to the main passenger cabin where the handmaidens and Typho's squad were traveling. "We're making an unpowered entry."  
  
He focused all his attention now on the instrument panel, forced his hands and feet to steady on the controls, as now he had to fly with precision if they were to survive the transit into Wayland's atmosphere. His hand moved slightly on the pitch control, letting the attitude indicator slowly creep down to negative five degrees, and then jammed the throttles forward to maximum sublight velocity, glancing at the chrono and in ten seconds, chopped the throttles back to just above idle, letting Wayland's gravity pull them in closer.  
  
**  
  
"Contact has powered down and entered a decaying orbit, my Lord," the watch officer informed Raptor.  
  
"Trying to fool our sensors, no doubt. Skywalker is said to be an excellent pilot. Continue tracking him, he should pull out just before impact. And tell Colonel Jetti that should any of his batteries attempt to engage that ship I will rip the man's still-beating heart from his chest."  
  
"Yes, my Lord," the watch officer replied, unable to control his fear in the Sith Lord's presence.  
  
**  
  
The ship was getting hot inside. Unbearably hot, thought Anakin, as he struggled to keep an eye on the ship's altimeter and concentrate on the Force, sensing the falling ship's position relative to the planet below. The ship's nose, he saw, glancing momentarily out the cockpit windows, was glowing orange. The hull temperature monitor was climbing toward the red danger zone with sudden rapidity, and he pulled back slightly on the control column, flaring the ship slightly in an attempt to slow the descent.  
  
He closed his eyes, ignoring the now blaring warning alarms, drew on the Force again.  
  
And he waited.  
  
And waited, ignoring Padme's insistent urging that he pull out before the hull failed, before the fuel tanks exploded, ignoring the ever-increasing number of critical alarms...  
  
NOW!!  
  
Suddenly, he wrenched the control stick back and shoved the throttles forward to half power. He glanced down at the altimeter, now showing 300 meters.  
  
Another fraction of a second, he knew, and they would have been a permanent feature of Wayland's landscape.  
  
** Anakin pitched the Naboo starship upward at a radical angle, and for a moment Padme thought that the ship was going to stall and crash, but instead Anakin applied power to the twin Nubian radials and the ship surged forward, the nose at last lowering as the ship skimmed over the vast forests of Wayland.  
  
"Hull temperatures returning to nominal," Padme announced, as the shields began absorbing some of the excess heat. "So," she asked him "where are you planning to start looking?"  
  
"I feel a strange presence in the Force," Anakin replied, "and I believe my Master is nearby."  
  
**  
  
"I.have lost him, Lord Raptor," the young officer reported, terrified of the Sith's potential anger at his failure.  
  
"He's flying under our sensor net," the Sith stated. "But it is no matter. He will find his way here, and I will be waiting for him."  
  
The young watch officer breathed an audible sigh of relief, as he had seen the fate of those who failed the Sith before.  
  
**  
  
The forest canopy streaked by in the cockpit windows as Anakin flew the starship only meters above the treetops at full speed.  
  
"See that mountain ahead?" Anakin asked, indicating a large, dark mass looming on the horizon.  
  
Padme nodded. "Is that where you're headed?"  
  
"That's where the Force is leading me," he said. "I plan to get closer to the mountain's base and find a place to land. Then we can make the rest of our way in on foot."  
  
An hour later the ship had landed after Anakin found a gap in the trees large enough to set the vessel down.  
  
He and Padme unstrapped themselves from their seats and made their way to the main cabin, where the handmaidens and Typho's men were waiting.  
  
Padme opened the ship's weapons locker, and she and the others began an inventory of their available firepower.  
  
Typho's infantrymen were well equipped, Typho with a powerful pistol, six of his squad carried blaster carbines, and two more carried the team's most valuable asset - a light repeating blaster and a removable lightweight tripod mount. In addition, the squad had two thermal detonators, several concussion grenades each, vibroblades, and each man carried two blaster cartridges for the repeater and the assistant gunner carried a spare barrel. The handmaidens and Padme each were armed a pair of pistols. They also had either on the ship or in the soldiers' web gear several field rations, medical supplies, some water, and other useful items.  
  
In addition to his lightsaber, Anakin armed himself with a high-power pistol and several cartridges, while Padme selected an automatic carbine and some concussion grenades.  
  
Anakin headed for the ship's entry ramp, Padme in tow.  
  
"Let's go out and take a look at our surroundings," he said.  
  
**  
  
Anakin and Padme stepped out into the dense forest. Anakin could hear the chorus of sounds made by Wayland's abundant and varied contingent of animal species. Looking around, he saw that the forest was extremely dense, and judging from the size of several of the tree trunks, some nearly two meters in diameter, quite old.  
  
Padme, a few meters away, was examining their surroundings as well. Anakin forced himself not to continue looking at her. He could not afford this distraction now, he knew. His Master's life was in jeopardy, and if his dream was a vision of the future, so was his own. It crossed his mind that if he were to be killed here, he would not have even had the opportunity to say that he loved her.  
  
No!   
  
He imagined his Master's voice.  
  
Clear your emotions, Padawan. Dispel your thoughts and reach out into the Force.  
  
He paused for a moment, closing his eyes, stretching out his senses in the Force. He sensed a flowing current of different nonsentients all around him.wildlife, no doubt. Stretching his senses deeper, however, he felt an odd sensation that he could have sworn he encountered before.it felt like a huge mass, as though a signal were being duplicated and amplified thousands of times, but with tiny variations, as though of an identical frequency with varying amplitudes. And, seeming to flow beneath the current's surface, was the chill of an icy hand, seeming to trace a finger slowly up his spine.  
  
He cried out and suddenly opened his eyes wide in terror.  
  
"Anakin! What's wrong?" Padme asked him, startled by his sudden cry.  
  
"He's here. They're here. In the mountain." His words were spoken between clenched teeth, and he was breathing heavily.  
  
"Who, Anakin?"  
  
"The clones, Padme. It was the same feeling in the Force I sensed on Naboo, only there seem to be a huge number of them. Thousands. And he is with them.the man in my dreams."  
  
"Man in your dreams?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it now. I can't dwell on it if we are to succeed here. But that mountain is full of clones, so we had better rescue my Master quickly and get out of this place."  
  
**  
  
"Lieutenant, leave two men here with the repeater to protect the ship. Have them find a position with good fields of fire but out of sight. The rest of you grab your gear and get ready to move out."  
  
Lieutenant Typho saluted Padme and dispatched the gun team. The unspoken implications of Padme's orders, sensible as they were, were disturbing. The gun would be too cumbersome to carry through the dense forest, and if that much firepower became necessary, they would be in serious, quite possibly mortal danger.  
  
Anakin wished the ship had not been finished so brightly, as the massive reflective hull would act like a beacon to any sentries or patrols. Yet, at the same time, there was no way to camoflauge the ship effectively. The only positive was that the dense forest would make the ship visible only from above or from very close range.  
  
Everyone checked and double-checked their weapons. The handmaidens had changed from their conspicuous orange robes into darker, closer-fitting garb better suited for action and concealment. Padme adopted an identical outfit to remain further inconspicuous, as it would be impossible for anyone other than a close friend or relative to determine which of the young women was the Naboo Senator.  
  
It was decided that Anakin, with his heightened Jedi senses, would take point. Padme and the handmaidens would follow him, far enough back to disguise their numbers, but close enough to help if Anakin ran into trouble. The remaining seven men, Typho's squad, brought up the rear of the column, the seventh man, a young corporal, was to cover the rear and conceal their trail from any roving patrols.  
  
"Normally I would have us move at night," Anakin said, "but we don't have much time, and this is a very dangerous place. Follow directly behind the person in front of you. It will hide our numbers, and there may be mines, traps, or warning devices."  
  
He drew his blaster from his belt. "Let's move out." 


	19. Chapter 18

Okay, so from here on it will be a lot of short, but frequent chapters.  
  
-Tim  
  
  
  
After several grueling hours trekking through the dense forest, they had made it about halfway to the point at the mountain's south base where Anakin was guiding them. No one spoke, for they took great pains to emit as little noise as possible. They moved carefully, silently, each following in the steps of the one before. They kept weapons in hand, ready to fire in an instant should they run into a hostile force. All eyes and ears were alert, kept so by fear and adrenaline.  
  
Anakin, in the lead, suddenly halted and raised a hand, motioning those behind him to do the same. He peered out through a break in the foliage, seeing a crude but worn path, ground churned by footsteps. He walked back towards the rest of the formation.  
  
"Looks like a patrol route up ahead," he said. "We're going to have to divert to the east so we can stay hidden."  
  
Padme and Typho nodded in assent.  
  
Padme was about to speak when suddenly, they heard a massive roar coming from the direction of the mountain.  
  
"Get down!" Anakin snapped, and all dropped to the forest floor, remaining motionless, as the noise drew nearer, passed directly overhead, and then faded off. Anakin concentrated on his impressions in the force, and several minutes later, he stood, signaling for the others to rise as well.  
  
"A shuttle, medium sized," he said, "coming from the mountain."  
  
Padme muttered a curse. "As we expected, the clones are here."  
  
"And they have my Master" Anakin said, his voice laced with anger.  
  
**  
  
Three more hours, and another diversion after Anakin had spotted another patrol route, and they were at last nearing their goal, the mountain looming larger when they looked through gaps in the trees. In addition, they had heard nearly a dozen more shuttles ascending from the mountain, climbing high into the stratosphere.  
  
Anakin had scanned the area around him, and sensing no danger, signaled for a much needed halt. He sat down, leaning his back against a tree trunk, while his companions attempted to find similar comfort nearby.  
  
"The shuttles seem to launch every fifteen minutes or so," Padme observed. "There is something very unsettling about this." She paused, thoughtful. "Anakin, you said you could sense their presence in the Force. How many do you think are here?"  
  
"I couldn't tell," Anakin said. "The Force signatures from the clones are nearly identical, and it's impossible to separate them, though there are slight variations. Though, from what I could sense, I would estimate there must be thousands of them."  
  
Padme shuddered, remembering how much trouble a mere platoon of clone soldiers had been able to create. "We know they have ships. They sent five cruiser-sized vessels to attack Naboo, but there are no capital ships near this planet."  
  
Anakin caught on to her line of thought. "You think they have a fleet somewhere and are transferring the men here on those shuttles?"  
  
Padme nodded. "And that can only mean they are deploying them to attack somewhere else, and in far greater strength. Even if we cannot rescue Master Kenobi, we have to get word back to Coruscant."  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan cried out in pain as Raptor's fist smashed into his bare stomach.  
  
"I will ask you one more time, Jedi," Raptor sneered, "why did the Jedi send you here, and have you or have you not sent any transmissions to the Council or the Republic?"  
  
Obi-Wan said nothing. Tried to ignore the agony. Tried to ignore the realization that soon, he would die, alone. Who would train Anakin, he wondered. But he would reveal nothing to the Sith, even if it meant his death, though he had already decided his lifespan was now measured in days, perhaps hours, regardless of his cooperation.  
  
"I grow tired of your attempts at bravado, Jedi," the Sith said. "I would take great pleasure in slowly, painfully killing you myself, but my Master has other plans for you. You are to remain alive until I have your young apprentice in my possession."  
  
"Anakin will be of no more use to you than I," Obi-Wan replied. "He will tell you nothing, and soon the Council will come for us."  
  
"You think so, my foolish friend?" Raptor asked. He laughed, a mocking, evil, chilling sound. "You Jedi believe yourselves competent.but you are clueless as to the true threat to your pathetic Republic. Even if you managed to escape, it would still serve my Master's plans. And as for young Anakin, it is not information that my Master wants from him.oh no..it is the boy's soul. And even now, he is on the planet, walking directly into a trap."  
  
Obi-Wan just managed to suppress a scream of terror as the Dark Lord of the Sith let loose more mocking laughter.  
  
** 


	20. Chapter 19

He was very close.  
  
His Master's dim presence grew steadily as he approached the mountain's base. Unfortunately, so did the impression of thousands of clone soldiers and the icy chill which he attempted to will out of existence.  
  
His steps on the steadily rising ground became slower, more deliberate, as the need for stealth became more important with every stride. He looked up, and directly ahead of him was a massive fallen tree trunk, and then the brightness of the sun streaming through indicating a break in the undergrowth ahead. He turned, seeing the slowly moving outline of Padme, next in the column, perhaps 30 meters away. He held up his hand, signaling a halt.  
  
Slowly, gingerly, intent on silence, he lowered himself to his hands and knees and began crawling forward, toward the fallen tree, ignoring sharp sticks and biting insects which attacked his hands, willing himself to make no sound.  
  
It seemed like minutes before he reached his destination, although in reality it was much shorter. He raised slightly into a crouch behind the fallen log, and slowly extended himself upwards so that he could survey what lie in front of him.  
  
His gaze swept slowly from left to right. The jungle had been cleared, judging from the jagged stumps, in about a 50-meter semicircle. At the center, about twenty degrees from his line of advance, stood an armored gray figure holding a blaster rifle, and behind him, bored into the black rock of the mountain, was a door.  
  
He lowered himself from sight and signaled to Padme and the others to come forward slowly. Mimicking Anakin's approach, they dropped to hands and knees and slowly crawled to his position. Padme was crouched on his right, and Lieutenant Typho next to her. His companions took turns peering in the direction Anakin indicated.  
  
Unfortunately, there was no easy way to drop the sentry quietly. The clearing around his position precluded approaching within vibroblade range, and a blaster shot would surely be heard and recognized by any soldiers nearby.  
  
Padme and Typho looked at him expectantly, but no one spoke, not even in a whisper, for fear of alerting the enemy. And when Anakin rose again to his knees, their expressions became those of concern. Wouldn't he be spotted?  
  
Anakin, however, did not look at them - did not even look at the soldier, and instead closed his eyes, his face toward the enemy. Again, he calmed himself, drawing on the Force around him, channeling it to him, until it became his to command. He visualized the sentry, and slowly raised his right hand, fingers spread apart, until they pointed towards the enemy.  
  
Slowly, the fingers drew closer together, bending, as though they closed around an unseen object. Anakin felt beads of sweat running slowly down his forehead, but his concentration was focused entirely on the soldier, and an image of his hand closing around the man's throat.  
  
**  
  
Padme ventured a glance toward the sentry, and in astonishment, saw the Mandalorian's hands fly upward to his neck, saw him twist and struggle, fighting for leverage against a seemingly unshakeable grip. He heaved forward, then fell to his knees, and then finally dropped motionless to the ground.  
  
**  
  
Anakin's eyes opened, and he drew in several breaths. The effort had been considerable, for the Mandalorian was strong, and Anakin had never practiced, nor even heard of, choking a man with the Force. He addressed the others: "I only made him pass out. If he regains consciousness before we leave, we've been here too long. Go!"  
  
They ran, Anakin in the lead, to the door behind the limp form of the enemy.  
  
"How are we going to get in there?" a corporal asked him, impatiently.  
  
Anakin made no reply, instead removing his lightsaber, igniting the green blade, and shoving the tip into the door's control panel. Smoke and sparks flew from the surface and blue lightning arced between switches. An access panel blew out, and the door flew upwards.  
  
Anakin was the first to enter. They walked on a smooth steel floor along a dimly lit tunnel of lichen covered rock, no doubt blasted or drilled out of the mountain. However, they advanced at a jog, weapons ready, and had little time to evaluate their surroundings in detail. Luckily, they saw no soldiers inside the tunnel, which intersected with another passageway a hundred meters ahead. Anakin led, following his instincts and the presence of his master, urging the rest onward. At the intersection, Anakin went left. This tunnel was different from the first, as several recessed doorways lined either side. Another hundred meters ahead was yet another crossing of passageways. Anakin suddenly stopped in front of one of the doorways. "He's in here," he said. HE drew the lightsaber again and began cutting along the heavy metal door's edge, the energy blade searing through the massive locking mechanism, and the door swung open slightly.  
  
"Lieutenant, corporal, follow me!" he ordered. "The rest of you shoot anything that comes around those corners ahead!"  
  
Straining with effort, Anakin and Typho pulled the massive door open. They burst inside, and Anakin staggered backwards as though struck with a blow. "Master!" he shouted, glimpsing the barely recognizable and terribly battered form of Obi-Wan Kenobi, suspended from chains attatched to the walls. Anakin rushed to his Master's side and sliced through the chains with his saber, while Panaka caught his falling body before it slammed against the floor.  
  
"Anakin," Obi-Wan managed to choke out.  
  
Anakin wanted to say something, anything, to the man who he knew was severely injured, but realized that time was now imperative.  
  
"You two take him, run to the ship as fast as you can. We'll cover you if anyone comes after us!"  
  
Typho, a large, powerfully built man, slung Obi-Wan's limp form over a shoulder and started for the doorway, the corporal right behind him with his blaster held ready. He ordered the rest to get out, and the soldiers and handmaidens began running back the way they had come.  
  
Padme waited for Anakin to step out of the doorway. "Let's go," he said, and they took off after the rest, who were now several dozen meters ahead.  
  
Yet suddenly, off to the left, one of the other doorways burst open, and out stepped a figure in black, directly into their path.  
  
**  
  
Padme brought her blaster pistol up into a firing position with speed that would have impressed a Corellian commando. However, she was no match for a Sith. The dark figure thrust out a blue hand, palm outward, and Padme flew several meters through the air and slammed against the rock wall of the tunnel, then fell to the floor, motionless, the blaster pistol falling from her hand.  
  
**  
  
Anakin watched in horror, then uttered an incoherent yell of rage, rushing toward the black figure, lightsaber raised overhead, and brought the blade down in a mighty swing intending to split the enemy from head to crotch. Yet the dark figure stepped back, dodging the blow, and ignited his own saber, bringing the scarlet blade around in a slashing cut. Anakin, however, was extremely quick and agile, and angled his wrists upward in a parry. Static hissing filled his ears as the two blades strained against each other, and Anakin saw red eyes beneath the figure's hood, and a scowl of contempt on his angular features.  
  
His opponent suddenly circled his wrists and thrust forward, but Anakin deflected the red blade aside an instant before it pierced the base of his throat. The dark figure -the one from his nightmares, Anakin realized- suddenly attacked in a flurry of powerful slashing strikes, pushing Anakin back, keeping the young Jedi off balance and unable to take the offensive. Anakin was becoming desperate, as not only did the Sith seem to radiate fear which threatened to fatally disrupt his concentration, but he knew that Padme was lying a few meters behind him, helpless, and that only he could protect her.  
  
**  
  
Padme opened her eyes a few seconds later. Her shoulders were on fire with pain, and she had been stunned by the force of the impact. She focused on Anakin, who was being pressed back by the dark figure with the scarlet lightsaber. And then out of the corner of her eye, she saw her blaster pistol. Slowly, she inched towards the weapon, fighting the pain and thinking only of somehow saving Anakin from his opponent who seemed unstoppable.  
  
**  
  
Anakin's attention was entirely occupied by the impossibly fast-moving blade of his enemy. Anakin was faster, but the Sith was powerfully built and clearly far more experienced. Anakin, like all living Jedi save his Master, had never fought a saber-wielding enemy in mortal combat, instead his limited experience consisted of practice duels or blocking blaster shots. And more importantly, the Sith had achieved surprise, attacking before Anakin could overcome either his shock or fury, on his own terms, and had clearly no intention of ceding the initiative to the Jedi.  
  
The Sith slashed right to left with a short stroke intended to deflect Anakin's blade to the side in preparation for a killing thrust at his chest. Anakin, however, anticipated the move- or thought he did - and instead slashed into the direction of the Sith's attack. Yet in an instant he saw the red blade sliding down his own, the tip slicing into the flesh of his right hand between the thumb and index finger. He cried out in unbearable pain as the Sith brought a sweeping kick at Anakin's legs, knocking them out from under him. Anakin fell backwards and dropped his saber. The Sith towered above him, reversing his grip and holding his weapon pointed at him, his hands raised overhead, preparing for a finishing thrust.  
  
**  
  
Padme saw Anakin being pressed further by his enemy, and then watched in horror as the Jedi was knocked to the ground, his saber falling from his hand. In desperation, she grabbed the blaster pistol.  
  
Things seemed to move almost in slow motion. The Sith started to bring down the blade. She heard herself yell out Anakin's name as the Jedi attempted to recover. She aimed the weapon at the Sith, who was now momentarily distracted by her shouting. But then she noticed a small crack in the rock at the tunnel's ceiling. She thumbed the switch to select the blaster's highest power setting and shifted her aim upward slightly, then pulled the trigger.  
  
**  
  
Anakin, too, heard Padme cry out, and watched in horror as she leveled the pistol at Raptor, knowing the Sith could easily deflect the bolt back at the Senator. He called his dropped saber to his good hand - the left one, and prepared to fight a doomed battle if only it would allow Padme and Obi- Wan to escape. And then he saw the blaster's muzzle elevate slightly. A flicker of realization passed through Padme's Force-imprint and he rolled away from the Sith just as the blaster bolt slammed into the tunnel overhead.  
  
**  
  
Padme saw Anakin propel himself rearward and the Sith jump back as he, too, realized the Senator's plan. The tunnel shook as a huge pile of rock, fragmented and cracked by the impact of the blaster bolt, came crashing down, in turn dislodging larger chunks of rock until a portion of the tunnel caved in entirely.  
  
She struggled to her feet, as did Anakin, who narrowly escaped being crushed. She wanted to run over and embrace him, but instead he was already on his feet, hooking the lightsaber to his belt and grabbing the blaster pistol in his uninjured hand. She followed him out through the tunnels, now at a dead run, past the still-unconscious sentry, and back into the forest.  
  
**  
  
Raptor swore violently. He was furious, having been foiled not by the Jedi, who seemed hardly the threat Palpatine had warned of, but rather by the tiny female Senator. He, too, had cleared the falling rock by inches, and now his hand went for his comlink. "Major, the Jedi is fleeing gate 114. Kill them all, or you will beg me for death!" 


	21. Chapter 20

Anakin could hear the soldiers behind him crashing through the foliage as they ran. A blaster shot flew wide to his right and smashed into a tree trunk ahead.  
  
"We've got to slow them down!" Padme shouted from in front of him. The Naboo Senator turned and fired her pistol, dropping one of the clone solders.  
  
Anakin kept running, trying to ignore the mind-numbing pain in his right hand. He pulled out his comlink.  
  
"Get ready to cover us!" he said to the corporal back at the ship manning the repeating blaster.  
  
He sidestepped and flattened himself against a nearby tree trunk and took his blaster in his left hand. Turning, he aimed, exposing only enough of his body to get a decent shot. One of the Mandalorians was waving his men forward and shouting. "Take out the leaders!" he said to Padme, who had dropped prone and was taking aim with her own weapon. Hopefully, with the squad and platoon leaders down, the enemy pursuit would lose effectiveness.  
  
Anakin fired, hitting his target in the chest. Padme's shot caught the man behind him in the shoulder. Another Mandalorian opened fire on Anakin, who returned to his improvised cover. They were getting closer now, and soon he and Padme would be killed or captured. He saw Padme remove a concussion grenade from her belt and Anakin followed suit with one of his own grenades. He removed the safety clip and hit the activator button with his thumb. HE stepped out into the line of fire again and lobbed the weapon toward a group of three clones only a few dozen meters away, then threw himself to the ground.  
  
His grenade was dead on target, as was Padme's, aimed at another group of clones. The ground shook under the explosions. "Go!" he yelled, rising to his feet again, breaking into a run, Padme to his left doing the same. They crouched low, looking for cover, trying to obscure the line of fire from the remaining enemy.  
  
**  
  
Typho, his squad, and the handmaidens arrived at the ship. He heard the sound of blaster fire and grenades exploding behind him, knowing that Anakin and Padme were in trouble.  
  
"Set up a perimeter," he ordered, "Get ready to lay down cover fire!"  
  
The Naboo soldiers and the handmaidens assumed positions around the ship behind cover in a semicircle covering the ground between the Jedi and Senator's approach route and the ship. Typho, however, rushed to the vessel's cabin, where he deposited the unconscious Obi-Wan Kenobi on the table in the room's center.  
  
**  
  
Anakin's lungs burned, his legs felt as though they could collapse from under him, and his heart pounded with exertion. Padme, too, looked winded, as they had ran as fast as possible toward the ship, only stopping to fire at the enemy to slow them. Blaster bolts had singed Anakin's robe, as the pursuing clones paused periodically to fire accurate shots.  
  
However, as he looked through the underbrush and saw reflective silver, they had almost made it to the ship.  
  
**  
  
Sabe heard the sound of figures running, and Padme and Anakin burst into view, heading for the ship's boarding ramp. "They're behind us, and close!" Padme told her.  
  
**  
  
Corporal Arrie saw half a dozen gray-armored soldiers running towards them, blasters at the ready. He looked through the repeating blaster's sights and jerked the trigger, sweeping left to right in a long burst. The two men farthest to the left fell, and the others managed to dive to cover, barely missing the flurry of blaster bolts which shot overhead. The others also opened fire, finding targets. Sabe tossed a grenade, killing two and wounding three more. However, more clones were arriving behind their comrades, dropping behind cover and spraying fire from their blaster rifles toward the defenders. Soon they would be outflanked, and all would be lost.  
  
Typho stuck his head out of the boarding hatch. "Fall back to the ship! We're getting out of here!"  
  
**  
  
Anakin, Padme in tow, raced to the cockpit and began strapping himself in. They began flipping switches and pushing buttons as fast as their hands could move, powering up the ship.  
  
**  
  
The massive Nubian radials burst into life as slowly, one by one, the soldiers and handmaidens left their positions and boarded the vessel while the others tried to keep the enemy pinned down. The repeater team was last to leave, abandoning their bulky weapon, as it would slow them fatally.  
  
**  
  
"They are boarding the Senator's ship," the Major announced through his comlink. "We don't have any firepower that can touch it, Lord Raptor."  
  
The Sith swore and pounded the console. "Watch officer, order two squadrons to launch immediately!"  
  
**  
  
"All personnel present and accounted for," Typho announced through the cockpit's access door.  
  
Anakin engaged the ship's repulsors for takeoff mode as the ship began to rise vertically. No sooner had the ship cleared the forest canopy, however, when Padme looked up from the sensor panel.  
  
"Twenty-four fighter contacts bearing three one four! ETA three minutes!"  
  
Anakin swore in frustration. The Nubian J-type was unarmed, and hardly a starfighter, and even worse, they were vastly outnumbered. But the ship did have one important asset - speed.  
  
"Dump all the power you can into the engines," he ordered, "and set course for a jump to Coruscant."  
  
The sleek ship rocketed upwards out of Wayland's atmosphere. The fighters pursued at maximum speed, but the Royal Starship was fast, and the approach vectors made interception impossible.  
  
*** 


	22. Chapter 21

Once the ship was tunneling through hyperspace, Anakin's hand began to hurt.painfully hurt, as the adrenaline from the narrow escape wore off.  
  
He had met the Sith from his dreams, and was saved only by Padme's quick thinking. The sight of the cloaked figure stepping out from the shadows, red eyes glowing with malice, refused to leave his thoughts. However, Anakin had a far more pressing problem which needed his attention. He unstrapped himself from the pilot's seat with his good hand.  
  
"Keep an eye on things," he told Padme, "I'm going to check on my Master."  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi lay unconscious on the cabin table where Typho had placed him, now stripped to the waist and lying on his back with several bacta strips applied to various bruises and cuts which tattooed his torso. He was currently attended by two of Padme's handmaidens and Disre, Typho's platoon medic.  
  
"How is he?" Anakin asked the medic, not bothering with pleasantries.  
  
The young soldier, sensing Anakin demanded a straightforward answer, began to report.  
  
"His condition is quite serious, and I haven't the proper facilities or experience that he needs. Most of the external wounds are superficial, but he is suffering from shock, internal bleeding, and dehydration. I've managed to administer intravenous fluids and sedate him, but if we don't get him to a capable facility on Coruscant in the next few hours.it doesn't look good."  
  
"Damn!" Anakin yelled angrily, spearing the young medic with a venomous gaze, "It will take us at least six more hours in hyperspace!"  
  
The young corporal blanched at Anakin's fury. The Jedi took a deep breath and seemed to relax slightly.  
  
"He has to make it." Anakin said, simply. Not with anger or frustration, but stating a fact. "He has to."  
  
Anakin approached his unconscious master slowly and rested his left hand - the good one - on Obi-Wan Kenobi's forehead.  
  
Sabe and Disre looked at him, perplexed.  
  
"I'm no healer," Anakin replied, "but perhaps I can help him."  
  
Indeed, Anakin was far from a trained Jedi healer, although his sheer power in the Force would perhaps be sufficient.  
  
He decided to concentrate on transferring energy to his Master rather than relieving pain or attempting to repair the damage - instead, he hoped that if he were to supply his Master with strength, his body would begin to repair itself somewhat. Drawing on his own power and the Living Force around him, he allowed himself to act as a conduit transferring energy to Obi-Wan. However, he was soon exhausted enough to interfere with his concentration, and he was forced to rest. Yet he had felt his Master's strength increase slightly, which was a good sign.  
  
"I'll take a look at your hand," Disre offered.  
  
"Thanks," Anakin replied. "It hurts like hell, but lightsaber wounds cauterize tissue and prevent blood loss." He looked down at his blackened, blistered skin. "But they tend to leave nasty burns."  
  
"Do you think you helped him?" the corporal asked, gesturing to the Jedi Master.  
  
"I think so," Anakin replied. "I better have."  
  
**  
  
"I have failed you, my Master," the kneeling Darth Raptor admitted to his Master's hologram.  
  
"It is a mere setback, my apprentice. There shall be plenty more opportunities for Skywalker."  
  
"Then I am not to be punished, Master?"  
  
"Not now. Not because I am merciful, but because there are more pressing matters we must attend to. Your punishment shall be dealt with after our operations are complete. For now, you are to go to the fleet and proceed as planned."  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan was glad to be out of the bacta tank, and out of the all-too- watchful eyes of the Temple Healers. Even better was the hot meal he had just eaten, and the exquisitely lengthy shower which removed the sticky bacta from his skin.  
  
He was told that the healers had used some of the nearly pure bacta obtained directly from Thyferra, which was over twice as efficient as the usual grade sold on the market. As a result, his recovery took only thirty- six hours instead of the seventy-two which would have normally been required.  
  
A swirl of rapidly moving robes and a familiar presence in the Force marked Anakin's entry into Obi-Wan's room.  
  
"You're looking good, Master. You'll be turning the Senator's handmaidens' heads again shortly, I think."  
  
Obi-Wan merely rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well," Anakin replied, still grinning, "you didn't see the rather thorough attention Sabe was giving your bare torso on the ride back to Coruscant."  
  
Obi-Wan made no reply, although he did admit at times that the Senator's delectable handmaidens caused him to frown upon a certain portion of the Jedi Code.after all, Jedi or no, he was still male.  
  
"It's good to have you back," Anakin said, more seriously this time.  
  
While immersed in the bacta fluid, Obi-Wan found himself plagued by recurring flashbacks to his last encounter with the Sith. However, this time it was not Qui-Gon Jinn he was unable to save, but Anakin. His encounter with Lord Raptor brought up too many memories he would rather altogether have forgotten.  
  
"Listen, Anakin," he began. "I want to thank you for what you did back there, and also to apologize."  
  
His apprentice looked perplexed. "Apologize, Master? For what?"  
  
"For your having to face the Sith alone. I was in no condition to protect you as I should have. And I should not have drawn you into a trap."  
  
"I would still have come for you, Master. And don't forget, it was Padme's quick thinking that saved me."  
  
"That woman would have made a fine Jedi," he mused aloud. He stopped for a moment and placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "And you will make a fine Jedi too, Anakin. I am sure of it. Now come on, we are to appear before the Council and recount our story."  
  
**  
  
After Anakin and Obi-Wan departed, the Council began deliberation.  
  
"The Sith have returned," stated Master Windu.  
  
"And it appears that they are behind the attack on Naboo, as well as the assassination of the Malastarian Senator," added Ki-Adi-Mundi.  
  
"Faced the Sith for the second time, Kenobi has," said Yoda gravely. "Puzzling and disturbing, this is. And young Skywalker.reckless is he. Vulnerable to the Dark Side, he remains."  
  
Master Gallia spoke in his defense. "Yet had he not rushed in to save his Master, Knight Kenobi would not have survived. Reckless he may have been, but his intentions were in accordance with his duty."  
  
"The matter of Anakin Skywalker is an important issue, but not germane with what we must present to the Supreme Chancellor," Mundi interjected.  
  
"We will merely tell him what we know," Windu replied. "The initiative now lies with the Sith, like it or not. Kenobi and Skywalker reported they are in possession of a huge army in process of deploying, but have learned nothing about the intended target. As we suspected, the assault on Naboo was merely a raiding action. In any case, the Fleet cannot act without authority of the Senate. Senator Naberrie has said she will try to do what she can, but the Senate is slow to act, and we have no hard, objective evidence, only conjecture and eyewitnesses. I do not feel they would give the Chancellor the authority to move against Wayland, and it is unwise to proceed without knowing the intentions of our enemies, lest we fall into a trap."  
  
"Clouded is the Dark Side," Yoda said. "And formidable, our enemies. Grave danger, I sense."  
  
** The two blue-uniformed Guards stood aside as the door to the Supreme Chancellor's office slid open. Anakin Skywalker stepped inside, unsure why the Supreme Chancellor had wished to speak with him alone.  
  
Behind the massive, ornate desk, the sculpted black chair of the Republic's Chief Executive turned away from the view of Coruscant through the massive windows, revealing the man who had summoned Anakin.  
  
Palpatine rose and moved to shake Anakin's hand. The Jedi bowed awkwardly, uncomfortable in the presence of politicians. However, the Chancellor's affable smile and warm tone in the distinguished, familiar voice, served to mollify his anxiety somewhat. "Ahh, young Skywalker," Palpatine greeted him. "Once again, the Republic is indebted to your heroism."  
  
Anakin was still nervous. "I merely did my duty, Sir. No more."  
  
The Chancellor allowed himself a small chuckle. "Modesty - the sign of the true hero. Nonsense. You acted on your own initiative.a trait I feel is somewhat lacking in Jedi these days. You took on a powerful enemy and thanks to you, I have obtained vital information." HE paused for a moment and steepled his hands, and when he looked Anakin in the eye, the Jedi thought he sensed a predatory edge to the intense, searching eyes. And still more odd, the Chancellor seemed to give very little of his emotions away through the Force. However, Anakin passed it off as either a trick of the light, or a vagary of the Chancellor's personality. In truth, he respected the Supreme Chancellor, who seemed as if he wanted to bring leadership to the Republic, but struggled against impossible odds.  
  
"I have been watching you for quite some time," the Chancellor continued. "Over the years I have seen a great many Jedi. And while I am no Force- sensitive, I sense greatness in your destiny."  
  
"You are too kind, Sir," Anakin said, embarrassed, though a small part of him was beaming at such high praise.  
  
"Again, the modesty." Palpatine allowed himself another chuckle, and Anakin wondered what was so amusing. "You may go, Anakin. I trust one of my aides has informed you that you and your Master are to brief the Senate tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes, Sir," Anakin replied.  
  
"Don't be so nervous," the Chancellor admonished. "Just tell them what you saw, keep it simple, and you'll do fine."  
  
**  
  
The huge battle fleet stretched for kilometers. Hundreds of warships, large and small, along with transports, supply ships, and patrolling fighters filled the vacuum of space in a panorama of military might. The vessels' scarlet coloring only added to the menace of their angular designs. A smaller number of vessels stood apart from the formation, but the vast majority were arrayed one after another with parade-like precision.  
  
On the titanic battleship Lord Bane, Darth Raptor stood next to General Jango Fett in the massive armored bridge.  
  
"My Master has ordered us to proceed," the Sith informed the mercenary. "Set course for Alderaan."  
  
** 


	23. Chapter 22

"For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, and breathed in the face of the foe as he passed. And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill. And their hearts, but once heaved, and forever grew still." Byron, "The Destruction of Sennecherib"  
  
They came in the dead of night.  
  
The bleary-eyed technicians monitoring the orbital warning satellites, kept awake by pots of caf at an hour entirely unsuited to consciousness, at first thought it was a communications failure when the transmissions abruptly ceased.  
  
Nor were they perturbed when communications satellites fell silent. Perhaps it was a solar flare bringing a sudden burst of electromagnetic radiation.  
  
The civilians wandering the streets of Aldera looked up into the sky in surprise, as meteor showers on Alderaan were uncommon, not knowing the streams of brilliant light were deadly turbolaser bolts.  
  
The first rounds landed among the few military facilities of a planet whose intellectuals preached stridently that a major war could not possibly befall the Republic. Entire city blocks turned to vapor beneath the impacting fire and barrages of concussion missiles.  
  
The transports landed in massive waves, many in portions of the city where the lasers and concussion warheads had cleared landing zones. Even had the invasion fleet been detected sooner, there would have been no chance against the battle fleet and an entire corps of infantry, artillery, and armor.  
  
Earlier, a small advance party had infiltrated the city's military installations, and in the guise of base personnel, had planted small beacons, which now served to furnish the bombarding cruisers with precise targeting data. Most of Alderaan's soldiers died still in their beds, without even time to pick up their weapons.  
  
The invaders rushed to seize their objectives, then began firing on the panic-stricken civilians who tried to flee somewhere, anywhere, but the exits were all blocked.  
  
There was nowhere to hide. 


	24. Chapter 23

MESSAGE INTERCEPT ID: 11573982  
  
RECEIVED 0330 CST FROM ALDERAAN STATION 113  
  
ATTN ALL STATIONS ALDERA UNDER ATTACK RPT UNDER ATTACK BY LARGE BATTLEFLEET 0230 HRS ALDERAAN DEFENSE FORCES NEUTRALIZED BY PRECISION BOMBARDMENT LANDING FORCE FOLLOWED 0245 EST CORPS STRENGTH INCL INFANTRY, ARTILLERY, AND ARMORED ELEMENTS CIVILLIANS BEING SHOT ON SIGHT ALL RECEIVING FORWARD TO CORUSCANT FLT. HQ IMMEDIATELY TRANSMISSIONS JAMMING HEAVY ALL FREQS EXPECT MESSAGE TERMIN.  
  
[END MESSAGE, SIGNAL LOST]  
  
Mace Windu handed the datapad back to the Supreme Chancellor. Apparently, a Fleet monitoring station had been able to bypass the jamming by sending a message on a little-used frequency often utilized by smuggler vessels. A Corellian freighter had forwarded the message to the Fleet shortly thereafter, and unfortunately, other ships had leaked the news to the press. Once again, the entire Republic was in turmoil.  
  
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had convened a meeting of Jedi Master Mace Windu, Alderaan Senator Bail Organa, and Admiral Rik Haas, the senior fleet commander of the Republic Navy upon receiving the transmission.  
  
"We do not know the total strength of the Mandalorians' forces," Master Windu stated. "Skywalker, Kenobi, and Senator Naberrie have discovered the enemy is using clone technology to create soldiers. It is possible that the facility discovered on Wayland is but one of several, and we should not assume that the forces involved in the Aldera invasion are all, or even the bulk of their strength. This move could be a ploy to draw out our fleet while other forces attack different targets. Containment and putting all our forces on high alert status would be my recommendation."  
  
"But that leaves the initiative to the enemy!" exclaimed Admiral Haas. The Admiral's tough, weathered features indicated his aggressive tactical style and disdain for cautious, defensive warfare. "Even if the forces on Aldera are but a portion of the enemy's strength, we should not ignore the opportunity to inflict heavy losses on their fleet, and occupying them in battle could buy us time to redeploy our own assets to defend strategic targets, while an engagement could provide us with valuable intelligence about the enemy which we are currently lacking."  
  
"Either choice presents grave risk," Palpatine said. "Yet I will NOT allow Alderaan to be sacrificed while I am Supreme Chancellor, so help me!" He slammed his fist down on his desk, punctuating his statement.  
  
"I agree," Organa added. "If the enemy is committing mass murder in our capital city, he must be destroyed utterly, and immediately, before he is able to threaten other cities of Alderaan or other systems. My planet is close to both Coruscant and Kuat, as well as other strategic targets, and would provide the enemy with an ideal base of operations for mounting an offensive. Furthermore, opinions among the Senators are clearly in favor of immediate action."  
  
"I was NOT implying that Alderaan, or any other planet, should be sacrificed," Windu countered. "But it is the opinion of the Jedi Council that we know, whether from the Force or conventional intelligence, far to little about the enemy to commit decisively."  
  
"I understand, Master Jedi," Palpatine answered, having calmed down from his momentary outburst. "And I am as concerned about the loss of life, both military and civilian, as any other man here. But first Moe's assassination, second the destruction on Naboo, and now an invasion - if we refuse to act now, the citizens of the Republic will loose confidence in the ability of the government to protect them. And that, gentlemen, is a far more dangerous threat than any Starfleet."  
  
Mace merely nodded gravely in assent.  
  
"Very well. We are in agreement. In that case I shall prepare to address the Senate with the help of Senators Organa and Naberrie tomorrow. Admiral, I will seek authorization from the Senate to release the 5th Fleet. Begin preparations for the recapture of Aldera. Master Windu, have the Council report to me at once with their decision on this matter."  
  
**  
  
"The Chair now recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of Naboo."  
  
The pod belonging to Padme Amidala, now returning to speak in her official capacity, moved slowly toward the center of the Senate chamber.  
  
"Senators of the Republic," Padme began, her voice loud, clear, and determined, "Our institutions and our freedom are threatened by a ruthless, merciless enemy. This enemy has only one goal - to inflict terror and death on our citizens, and to destroy the principles upon which our Republic is founded: freedom, peace, law and order, and the opportunity for all sentients to prosper. I do not wish for war, having seen its horrors personally far more than I have ever wished, yet I know that on some occasions, freedom and peace must be defended with force.  
  
The threat is not just to Naboo, or Alderaan, but to us all. We are bound by the oaths we have taken to be keepers of the public trust, to uphold the Constitution and the Republic, and to protect those we serve - not just our own constituencies, but all citizens of the Republic. As such, we in good conscience, have only one choice, however strongly we detest war. This body must grant the Supreme Chancellor the authority to defend our freedom by force of arms.  
  
Bail Organa and I have promised that if this resolution is passed, we will stand with the men in the front lines. We will not shrink from the consequences of the resolution we have submitted, and while the rest of you cannot enter the field directly, you can support those who do so by the force of your resolve and by a strong show of unity and purpose."  
  
The cheers coming from the thousands of Senate pods were deafening in volume and intensity, and Palpatine let them go on for several minutes before calling again for order.  
  
An hour later, the resolution to authorize the use of military force, which required under the Constitution a two-thirds majority, had passed by the unheard-of margin of ninety percent.  
  
**  
  
Darth Raptor stood on a small, rocky hill overlooking the ridge which covered the approaches to the vast southern beaches of the island of Aldera. Along the ridge line, dozens of combat engineering vehicles and thousands of troops with digging equipment were removing vast amounts of earth, constructing a formidable network of trenches and earthen parapets. Other teams of engineers were pouring duracrete into molds for massive bunkers all along the lines, carefully sited to provide deadly interlocking, mutually supporting fields of fire, to catch the enemy in killing zones. Others planted repulsor-activated mines and antitank obstacles on the beach itself.  
  
Out of sight, other teams continued the grisly task of removing the thousands of massacred civilians into transports which dumped them far out to sea.  
  
A colonel approached the Sith Lord. "My lord, our heavy artillery has just been offloaded. All batteries will be deployed within eight hours."  
  
"Excellent, colonel." He replied, dismissing the officer.  
  
Fett has no inkling of our plans, he mused. The ruthless mercenary General commanding the fleet blockading Alderaan was a skilled soldier, but at heart he was nothing more than a small-time thug with an army. The mandate from his Master was simple: They were supposed to be defeated, but to inflict as many losses on the Republic's elite forces as possible, and then Raptor and a select few officers were to withdraw to the site on Raggi 7, and plan their next strike.  
  
Fett believed they had a chance for victory, but he was a tactician, not a strategist. Despite the cloning technology, the Republic forces, once concentrated, would defeat them by sheer numbers if nothing else. However, that was precisely what his brilliant Master desired. For now, they would tear out the soul of the Republic- Alderaan.  
  
**  
  
General Valar Jaanzon looked out at the men and women, as well as a smattering of alien species, before him. They were ragged, weary, some were wounded. They had lost husbands, wives, children, parents, siblings, and good friends by the most horrible deaths imaginable, at the hands of a terrifying enemy - for the Mandalorians were not interested in rape or plunder, merely in dispensing death in vast quantities with machinelike precision.  
  
He had been away from his command post and found shelter when the attack began, thinking he could help mobilize the devastated military forces within the city, rally them to delay the enemy until help arrived. It was not to be. Every last man in his regiment, as far as he knew, was dead, either in the bombardment or the clean sweep of the city the invading infantry had conducted later on.  
  
Yet he had managed to assemble this ragged band of survivors in the basement of an abandoned warehouse. Most lacked any sort of military or law enforcement training, yet all were galvanized in their desire not for revenge, but for justice. He could see it in their hard stares.  
  
Had he a mirror, he would have seen it in his own. He, like many of them, wished he could have traded places with those who had died, while somehow he had been spared. Yet he was a soldier and he would do his duty to the last.  
  
He addressed the small group before him.  
  
"We are too few and have hardly any weapons. To meet the enemy in battle would only make us die faster. However, we can help those who do have the strength to destroy the invaders. I know none of you are trained in intelligence gathering or reconnaissance, but you have studied the procedures I have given you. You are to deploy in teams of two, at least one of you with a weapon, to your assigned sector. Your task is to observe and report, and remain unseen. Report where the enemy is located, how many there are, what type of units and equipment, and what they are doing. If you can see unit markings, illustrate them as well. Priority should be given to the location of anti-air missile batteries, defended strongpoints, command posts, artillery batteries, sensor stations, and large concentrations of troops and vehicles. Once you return I will collect your reports and send them in a single burst transmission to Fleet Headquarters. The enemy will notice our transmission, and we will have to disperse. Once our own forces have arrived, we will make contact with their commanders and assist them in navigating the city and locating the enemy. We move out at sunset. May the Force be with you."  
  
**  
  
The vast armada of the Republic's Fifth Fleet was formed in an awesome display of power near Corellia. In the van of the formation were dozens of sleek, fast, and powerful Corellian Corvette scouts. The main body consisted of hundreds of heavy cruisers - imposing, bulky Dreadnaughts and sixty of the dagger shaped Victory class Star Destroyers, newly commissioned. Each warship carried several starfighters in their hangars.  
  
Behind the warships was an array of two hundred massive troop transport ships, each in turn equipped to deploy dozens of assault landing transports, which ferried troops and vehicles to the ground. Gunship carriers were included as well, vessels which conveyed the ground-support vehicles into a planet's atmosphere and released them in mid-air.  
  
The Fifth Fleet had been created after the Battle of Naboo as one of the new Supreme Chancellor's first actions. It was designed to be an elite and highly powerful force which could be deployed within seventy-two hours in response to any crisis, and would engage the enemy until more units could be deployed as reinforcements.  
  
The Chancellor had named Admiral Rik Haas, a veteran fighter against Rim pirates and a classmate at the Academy, known for tactical skill, a quick temper, and a relentlessly aggressive fighting style, to lead the Fleet, over the heads of more politically connected yet unimaginative officers who valued tact unlike Haas's sharp tongue and well-known candor, even in the face of powerful politicians.  
  
The ships of the Fifth Fleet were the best-maintained in the Republic, and drew from the best personnel to fill crew billets. Their officers and crew, along with the star pilots, received constant and highly realistic training.  
  
The transports carried the Fleet's ground-based power, the XI Corps. The corps was composed of two Corellian and one Coruscant assault infantry divisions, and a Corellian armored and mechanized infantry division. Attached were dozens of various sized units, including the 17th Royal Naboo Guards Infantry Batallion, a construction batallion, another mechanized infantry brigade, two Gunship Support regiments, and numerous reconnaissance, combat engineering, signal, logistics, medical, artillery, air defense, and support units.  
  
Like the fleet ships, the XI Corps drew from the elite of the personnel resources. The junior officers and noncoms were experienced veterans in operating against pirates, and the forces had conducted training excercises in widely-differing mission and terrain types, and were well-coordinated.  
  
Haas had placed all units on alert status, ordering all personnel to report to their assigned units and to stand by for deployment. The fighter pilots had put in several hours of sim time, and captains were busy making sure their ships and crews were in fighting trim. And now the order had arrived from the Supreme Chancellor - prepare for war.  
  
From the hangar bay of the flagship, the Victory, five tiny objects ejected from the main hangar in the belly of the vessel and entered hyperspace.  
  
**  
  
The reconnaissance probes were only a third of the size of a Headhunter fighter, were unarmored and unshielded, and carried no weapons. However, they were designed to be nearly invisible to enemy sensors, and their own passive sensor equipment was of the most advanced technology in the Fleet. As the probes exited hyperspace near Aldera, they fired engines briefly, taking them towards the planet, to coast toward Aldera until the planet's gravity pulled them into the atmosphere, where they would disentegrate entirely upon reentry. But for now, they were recording data on the vast Mandalorian blockade fleet, sensors picking up the massive power signatures of the capital ship's huge ion drives, recording communications transmissions, into a log which would be transmitted in a short encrypted burst to the Victory just prior to their destruction. 


	25. Chapter 24

He had been summoned before the Council once again, and now Mace Windu was filling Obi-Wan Kenobi in on precisely why.  
  
"Normally, the Jedi would not be involved in a military action. However, as both yourself and your Padawan have confirmed the presence of the Sith, it is the reluctant decision of the Council that we have no choice but to become involved. We have decided to send a force of one hundred and fifty Jedi to the invasion units, and another twenty to serve as pilots within the Fleet's starfighter squadrons. The pilots will be commanded by Master Gallia, while the ground forces are being placed under you."  
  
"Me?" Obi-Wan was, to understate dramatically, surprised. "Surely you could find someone more experienced than I to lead them. I am a Jedi, but I am not an officer."  
  
"Yet it is you alone, among all the Jedi, who has spoken with this Sith Lord on Wayland. It is you who knows him best," replied Ki-Adi-Muundi  
  
"And what of my Padawan?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"He has volunteered to join the pilots," Adi Gallia answered him.  
  
"Fear, I sense in you," Yoda observed. "For your Padawan. Skywalker's destiny, he alone can face. Yet confidence, you lack, and your undoing, it could be."  
  
**  
  
"Dual hostiles inbound, sector two low," the voice of Anakin Skywalker's wingman, Blue Six, sounded in his comlink.  
  
Anakin scanned his own sensor readouts and then looked out the Headhunter's canopy. "Copy, Six, I see them."  
  
His first instinct was to order Two flight down to engage the enemies, but he paused for a moment. The mission of Red and Blue Squadrons in this sim exercise was to protect their ship, the Victory-class Star Destroyer Freedom from the "enemy," namely, Green and Gold Squadrons from another one of the Star Destroyers, for ten minutes, until "reinforcements" in the form of friendly squadrons were to arrive. For the purpose of the exercise, Freedom had been ruled "heavily damaged," having power out and engines, shields, and weapons offline.  
  
In other words, it was up to Freedom's Headhunter squadrons to prevent the opposing force's fighters from engaging the cruiser with deadly proton torpedoes.  
  
"Permission to engage, Five?"  
  
"Negative, Seven. I think they are going to try to draw us off the cruiser. Hold position and continue observation."  
  
Unfortunately, however, he saw Red Squadron peel off to go after another small formation of approaching fighters - leaving Blue to defend the Freedom all alone.  
  
"Damn," came the Squadron leader's voice. " Form up close to the cruiser. One flight, out front. Two take low and to port, Three take high and to starboard."  
  
Anakin bit back his frustration and attempted to concentrate on the mission. "Copy, One," he acknowledged.  
  
As predicted, he saw a squadron-sized group of "enemy" fighters move to engage Red Squadron. Even if the Reds managed to destroy the enemy, they were now fully occupied and effectively out of the fight.  
  
Which meant the second wave of attackers would appear momentarily.  
  
However, they did *not* come from the direction Anakin had expected.  
  
Instead, a shrill warning tone sounded in his cockpit, indicating that proton torpedoes were now locked onto his fighter, and they were coming in behind him.  
  
"Torpedoes fired, sector six!" he said, "Two flight, take evasive action!"  
  
His first move was to yank back the fighter's control stick, half-looping his fighter and reversing direction. A half roll brought him back upright. Now, at least, he could see the torpedoes streaking toward him. He waited until the glowing missiles were almost near the point of impact, then cut the etheric rudder hard to starboard while snap-rolling the fighter, standing it on a wingtip, then rolling to port, once again bringing him inverted as he forced the fighter down into an impossibly tight half-loop.  
  
The maneuver seemed to confuse the torpedoes, however, instead they locked onto the next available target - Anakin's wingman.  
  
"Five, I have four torpedoes tracking! Can't evade."  
  
He saw the Twi'lek break to port, across the track of the incoming missiles, the textbook defensive maneuver. However, one of the torpedoes, sensing it was close enough to the intended target, suddenly detonated, flinging metal fragments and scorching plasma jets out in a deadly cloud which completely engulfed the fighter.  
  
Blue Six was now "killed" in action, and Two flight was short one pilot, and the wild evasive maneuvers had scattered the tight formation.  
  
"This is Blue Lead. Blue Nine, Eleven, and Twelve are dead. Ten, form up with Two flight."  
  
Anakin, not bothering to scan his sensors, saw them first. Eight of the enemy fighters in two four-ship flights, coming in fast, dead ahead, intent on taking advantage of the confusion and destruction created by the torpedoes.  
  
"They are going for the cruiser," he said. "Take the close ones."  
  
Blue Leader's voice was reassuring "Lead flight has the second group."  
  
Hopefully, Anakin thought, their aggressive response would force the attackers to break off the run on the cruiser and go defensive. He slammed the throttle all the way to maximum thrust and pumped extra power into his forward shields as the tiny white dots of the enemy formation rapidly grew larger.  
  
He centered the gunsight on the lead fighter and pushed the firing button for the twin turbolasers. However, his target had managed to evade high and to the right as the two formations passed at blinding speed.  
  
"Split up," he ordered, as he and Blue Ten came around to port, Six and Seven going to starboard. The enemy fighters were matching the maneuver, unable to launch on the cruiser with Anakin's flight behind them, and instead moving to engage the defending fighters. Which was precisely what Anakin wanted.  
  
Once again, the fighters began closing head-on. However, Anakin didn't go for the shot this time, instead pulling into a tight overhead loop, the wisdom of his decision vindicated by the turbolaser blasts which streaked through the space his fighter had just occupied. Yet, to his surprise, the enemy fighters did not overshoot and give him a good firing position behind them. "Stay on my wing, Ten," he said, "we'll take them together."  
  
However, there was no acknowledgement of his wingman, and suddenly Anakin felt very alone. He threw the ship around in a tight turn and drew a bead on one of his opponents. A burst from his cannons vaporized the ship. Now for the other one.  
  
For a moment, he was surprised as the surviving fighter was nowhere in sight. His instincts, however, told him something else entirely. He wrenched the stick around in a barrel roll and avoided the incoming shots by only a few meters. The opposing Headhunter had half-looped and attempted to nail him from underneath while he was momentarily distracted by his kill.  
  
He broke hard to starboard, and now his target was visible, having passed him in the firing run. He struggled to get a clean shot, and instead fired a few hasty bursts in an attempt to intimidate his quarry into making a mistake. It did not have the effect Anakin desired. Instead, his target continued to jink and dodge, never allowing him to get a target lock.  
  
"This one's good," he said to himself.  
  
It was at that point Anakin realized what was going on. His target was trying to lead him towards his companions entangled with One Flight, gambling that this would distract Anakin long enough for a quick torpedo launch on the cruiser at close range.  
  
He glanced at the chrono on the instrument panel - one minute until help would arrive. Perhaps it was he who could serve as a distraction long enough for reinforcements to show up.  
  
He broke off pursuit.  
  
And as expected, his target, now possessed of the initiative, began to close rapidly on his six. The tricky part, he knew, would simply be to stay alive long enough for his plan to work.  
  
He strengthened the rear shields and bled power from his turbolasers into the engines, picking up speed quickly. Brilliant turbolaser bolts streaked past him as he twitched his stick and the etheric rudder pedals, making himself a much more difficult target. However, when a hit splashed against his aft shields, he realized that up against a skilled enemy, staying entirely passive was going to be suicidal. He pulled up and around, the force of the tight turn trying to press his body through his ejection seats and out the bottom of the cockpit. His attacker went high, trying to kill forward speed and not overshoot, and suddenly the battle became a close- range dogfight of impossibly quick maneuvers and snapshots, with neither pilot able to gain a clear advantage.  
  
And then, suddenly, the image of space in his canopy faded and Anakin found himself looking again at the sim room on Freedom's hangar deck. He released the canopy of the Headhunter cockpit mock-up, slowly starting to come down from the effects of adrenaline and his heightened Force-awareness.  
  
Colonel Zim, Freedom's head starpilot, stepped over to him.  
  
"That was some damn good flying, son," the man said. Zim turned briefly to the rest of the pilots exiting the simulators. "Good job, Blue Squadron. No hits were recorded on the cruiser."  
  
Anakin's gaze strayed briefly to the handsome blonde Captain in command of Red Squadron, who looked furious. As you should be, Anakin thought. If you hadn't gone tearing after the decoys, Blue wouldn't have been left by ourselves.and we wouldn't have lost half of our pilots.  
  
To Anakin's amazement, Jedi Master Adi Gallia approached from one of the simulators to stand next to Colonel Zim. "Most impressive, Padawan Skywalker," the beautiful dark-skinned Jedi Master said. "You never let me get a clear shot at you back there."  
  
Anakin somehow managed to not have his jawbone land somewhere in the vicinity of his flight boots. "That.was you?" he asked, amazed. Adi Gallia was the most respected pilot in the entire Jedi Order, and somehow he had held his own in a one-on-one dogfight.  
  
"The Force is strong with you indeed, young Skywalker. Trust your instincts in combat, and you'll do just fine."  
  
However, if Anakin thought his bewilderment and elation could not have gone any further, he was abruptly proven wrong by the Colonel.  
  
"You'll do more than fine, Kid. You're good, but you're smart, too, unlike most hotshots your age. Congratulations, I'm promoting you to First Lieutenant and to the position of flight leader for the duration of your service on this vessel."  
  
Anakin could do little more than get out a "Thank you, Sir" and a smart salute, which was returned by Zim. Anakin turned to make his way back to the rest of the squadron, and amidst his surprise and preoccupation with a rapidly swelling ego, nearly collided with his own Master.  
  
"Master! I must say I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be busy with your new command."  
  
Obi-Wan favored him with a grin. "I managed to scrounge a few free moments to come watch your sim run, and I must admit, you're quite a pilot, my young Padawan."  
  
"Thank you, Master," Anakin replied.  
  
"Unfortunately, our duties will separate us during the battle," he said, now more serious. "And I know you're probably the best pilot I've ever seen, and well on the way to becoming a great Jedi, but as your Master, I feel obligated to tell you to take care of yourself out there." He paused for a moment. "You're like a son to me, Anakin, and I know you're becoming a man quicker than I would prefer, and well.I don't want anything to happen to you."  
  
Anakin was rapidly becoming accustomed to being surprised, but he again found himself taken aback. His Master was a man who was warmer than most gave him credit for, but he had the habit of manifesting his love by his actions, rather than his words.  
  
"Thank you, Master," he said, not knowing what else to say. "You be careful out there too."  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan watched as his apprentice made his way back to his squadmates and into the debriefing room. It was what he had not told Anakin that was bothering him.namely, the words of the Sith, who said his Master was out for Obi-Wan's apprentice.  
  
Of Anakin's skill, there was no question. Most Jedi, by virtue of their abilities in the Force, were great pilots, but Anakin was the type who was a natural pilot whose Force abilities only enhanced those he innately possessed. His ability to take care of himself in a fighter cockpit was not an issue.  
  
Instead, it was the concern of Obi-Wan that he would not be able to help his apprentice during the coming battle.and that if either one of them were forced to face a Sith, to do it alone would be fatal - if not to the body, then quite possibly to the soul.  
  
**  
  
The brand new cruiser Victory, first of a new and revolutionary capital ship design, was also built to serve as a flagship. Thus, one particular feature, namely, a gigantic briefing room nearly as large as the main enlisted men's mess hall, was now being put to use for the first time.  
  
Hundreds of officers, both Army and Fleet, of all ranks, species, and sexes, were gathered in the huge room, so many that it remained crowded nonetheless. All eyes were fixed on the raised stage platform along the wall nearest the ship's bow, which housed a small group of men, among them Admiral Haas and Major General Bail Organa, now serving in his former capacitiy as an Army officer after resigning from the Senate.  
  
At a signal from the Admiral, the room became quiet and Haas took center stage near a large holoprojector.  
  
"As you know, Aldera, the capital city of Alderaan, was invaded two days ago by a large combined naval and land force composed of cloned Mandalorian soldiers. Despite heavy communications jamming, a single station was able to send word of the attack to Coruscant.  
  
"Our intelligence is still not as clear as we would wish, but the picture is not entirely bleak. Data from reconnaisance probes and from a small group of Alderaanian survivors, as well as eyewitness information provided by two Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, as well as Padme Naberrie of the Naboo, have given us a considerable body of useful intelligence data.  
  
"The Mandalorians have also been linked to both the murder of Senator Aks Moe and to the attack on Naboo, as well as an assassination attempt on Senator Naberrie. All sources indicate that the enemy ground forces are made up of cloned soldiers. The clones are well-equipped, well-trained in tactical skill, highly motivated, and have not been observed to surrender, even in the face of overwhelming odds.  
  
"Less is known of their armored vehicles or warships, though our analysts have reviewed the data from the recon probes and believe that in all classes of warships, the enemy's vessels are most likely roughly comparable to our own, save for the Victories. Two massive vessels, classed as battleships, were also seen, though we know little about their capability, and they are to be considered primary targets.  
  
"Our objective in this operation is twofold: first, to liberate Alderaan from the invaders, and secondly, to inflict as much damage upon the enemy forces as possible. We are uncertain if the invasion force is all, or even most, of the enemy strength, but we believe that the destruction of a force of this size could seriously impair the Mandalorians ability to conduct further offensive operations.  
  
"At 0600 Coruscant time tomorrow, the Fleet will enter hyperspace on a course toward Alderaan. It should arrive an hour later, at approximately 2 hours before sunrise in Aldera."  
  
A globe depicting Alderaan appeared above the holoprojector, with surrounding icons representing groups of enemy warships.  
  
"The first phase of the plan is to eliminate the threat from the enemy warships. Once the fleet emerges from hyperspace, it will proceed in battle formation directly toward the planet."  
  
Further icons, depicting the Republic ships, appeared near the projection, moving toward the planet, and the icons depicting the enemy formations began to shift to meet the opposition.  
  
"This will force the enemy to redeploy and engage the warships of Task Force 1. A smaller group, Task Force 2, led by the cruiser Freedom, will be detailed to provide security for the transports and to deliver the pre- attack bombardment.  
  
"Once the enemy fleet is neutralized, Task Force 1 will assume blockade positions in order to secure Alderaan against enemy reinforcements. In addition, fighter squadrons will be assigned to ground support duty once our ground troops enter the city. General Organa will now brief you on the ground phase of the operation."  
  
Bail Organa, dignified, dark haired, and bearded, took the place of the Admiral. The globe of Alderaan dissappeared from the projector to be replaced by a three-dimensional representation of the island of Aldera.  
  
Aldera was roughly oval-shaped, with a large beach area in the South and a large inactive volcano in the extreme north. the terrain in between was made up of the city itself, just south of the mountain, and with a dense tropical forest between the city and the beaches. Three corridors were carved from the forest, linking the beaches to the city.  
  
"As you can see," Organa explained, "there is only one suitable landing zone large enough to accommodate our landing vehicles - the beaches in the south. Luckily, a small group of survivors in the city was able to transmit to us a fairly detailed report of the enemy's deployments. The bulk of his forces are stationed in the city itself, and the Mandalorians have extremely formidable air defenses there as well. However, expecting an attack, the enemy has constructed a strong line of fortified positions and trenches along the heights overlooking the beaches at the southern edge of the forest.  
  
"The first wave will consist of both Corellian infantry divisions, the Naboo batallion, and several attached combat engineer units. Their objectives are to penetrate the enemy defense in three areas, corresponding with the location of the main roads leading to the city. They are to then secure the breaches in the enemy lines until the second wave, containing our armored and mechanized infantry units, arrives.  
  
"The armor will be split into three Battle Groups of both tanks and IFV's, along with forward recon units. Each Battle Group is to advance along its assigned route to the outskirts of the city as quickly as possible, where it will establish positions covering all the exit routes the enemy might use to counterattack the beachhead. However, the armor is not, repeat NOT to advance into the city itself without infantry or artillery support. Instead, it will hold position until the infantry, having eliminated the defenders in the south, catches up.  
  
T"he third and final assault wave will land when the southern entrenchments are cleared, and will contain our support units, as well as the heavy artillery. The beachhead will become our base for logistics and fire support.  
  
"The advance into the city itself will be made by three groups, each made up of an infantry division with armor in support. Their objective will be to converge in the northern section of the city where the planetary government facilities are located, thus splitting the enemy into two large pockets which will then be eliminated.  
  
"Note that priority is to be taken to eliminate the enemy's antiair weapons, as once this is done, starfighter support will be availiable in large quantities.  
  
"An additional force is being readied for deployment at the moment, a convoy of two more infantry divisions, supply ships, and replinishment vessels for the Fleet. It is due to arrive in system 48 hours after the operation commences.  
  
"More detailed information regarding in-depth deployments, maps, and recon data are contained in the datapads you will recieve at the conclusion of this briefing.  
  
"Our task is formidable, our enemy dangerous, but remember: professionalism, dedication, training, and the justice of our cause will lead us to prevail. May the Force be with you and your men."  
  
**  
  
The Headhunter was starting to grow on him. It did not have the agility of the Delta 7, the standard Jedi fighter, nor hyperspace capability, being reliant on a parent vessel for long-range journeys, yet it was not without advantages. While not the fastest, most maneuverable, or most heavily armed of fighters, the Z-95 managed to rate well enough in each category so that it was more well-rounded than most.  
  
The robust alloy hull, strong shields, and redundancy of engines made the craft quite survivable in combat. The greatest advantage the Headhunter possessed over the Delta-7, however, was it's armament: two oversized wing- mounted turbolasers, which could be fired either sequentially or simultaneously, and two proton torpedo tubes, each with two projectiles. This gave the small fighter a disproportionately large punch, as proton torpedoes in large numbers could do serious damage to even the largest capital ships.  
  
However, at the moment Anakin's attitude toward his ship was something less than reverential. The fuel feeder pump for engine number 4 was not cooperating.  
  
"Hydrospanner," he indicated to Master Sergeant Nishi, his Sullistan crew chief.  
  
The noncom nodded, presenting Anakin with the requested tool.  
  
Anakin adjusted the main intake valve seal for a moment, then looked back at Nishi. "All right, let's test it."  
  
The crew chief flipped a switch sending power to the disconnected fuel pump, and was rewarded by an expulsion of sparks, a small cloud of smoke, and the distinctive smell of charred electrical components.  
  
"Looks like we'll have to replace it," the Sullistan said needlessly. "I'll go to Wing Staff and start filling out requisition forms."  
  
Anakin uttered a particularly virulent string of curses. More paperwork, and no doubt a long night, as the new fuel pump would require both installation and calibration before his fighter was fit for combat. He hoped there was nothing else wrong with his ship.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a very female, and very familiar, voice.  
  
"Anakin?"  
  
He walked around the stern of the fighter and found himself staring at Padme Naberrie, quite embarrassed at his verbal outburst.  
  
She was dressed in a blue and maroon uniform of the Naboo Guards infantry, which just so happened to be composed of a rather close-fitting fabric which molded quite delectably to the curves of her body.  
  
"Padme?" he asked rather surprised, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Is that how you address a superior officer, First Lieutenant Skywalker?" she asked, attempting to sound offended, then broke into a smile that seemed to interfere rather severely with the ability of Anakin's legs to support him.  
  
Belatedly, he noticed the rank cylinders of a Lieutenant Colonel on the left breast of her uniform, and snapped a salute, though he was unable to supress a grin.  
  
"As you were, Lieutenant," she replied mirthfully. "No, I guess you could say that rank has it's privileges...as the senior Army officer on board my transport, I was able to borrow a shuttle and stop by and see you."  
  
"Oh," Anakin said, rather blankly. In truth, she was about the last person he expected to see, and considering their late conversation on Naboo, he would have preferred to keep their communication on a strictly-business basis. Quite simply, it hurt too much to think about, and he did not need that particular distraction right now, on the eve of the upcoming battle. Getting distracted in a starfighter cockpit in the middle of combat was a very good way to get killed.  
  
Both were silent for a long moment. Padme played with her hands nervously. Anakin could tell her attempt at lightheartedness was merely a disguise of a young woman who was once a queen, and a master of maintaining her composure.  
  
"So," she said, "I see you've been promoted."  
  
"Yes," Anakin replied, "My squad and group leaders were impressed with my performance in our sim excercises, so they made me flight leader."  
  
"Congratulations," she replied. "I'm sure you'll do fine. Look, I really just stopped by to tell you to take care of yourself tomorrow, and I knew I wouldn't get a chance if I didn't go and see you now. And I wanted to thank you for protecting me on Naboo. I don't think we'll be seeing much of each other now that there's going to be a war."  
  
"Thank you," Anakin said. "You be careful, too."  
  
She stepped forward and hugged him, which was in a strange manner almost painful to him, because she was doing it as a friend now, even though he could sense well enough that she was keeping a tight seal on her emotions. So was he, for that matter. And he hated it. Hated the damn self-denial, hated how she had said she couldn't love him even if she wanted to, and hated how the situation was beyond either of their control. Hated how he had to force himself to not concentrate on the feeling of her body against his, of the smell of her hair...  
  
He wanted to say something, to tell her how he really felt, to hell with Obi-Wan and the Council, but he managed to hold back. It sounded too much like saying goodbye.  
  
A permanent goodbye.  
  
***  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi passed the guards and entered General Bail Organa's quarters located within the Victory's massive bridge tower. The General stood from his desk, covered with a holo-map of Aldera and enemy troop positions, and motioned the Jedi inside.  
  
"General, Sir," Obi-Wan addressed him.  
  
"Knight Kenobi," Organa acknowledged, "Yes. As commander of the Jedi contingent in this operation, you are my chief liason to your men. I'm sure that can be of great assistance, but the fact remains that they are Jedi, not soldiers, and I'm not sure how they are going to fit into the plan."  
  
"I understand, General," he replied. And Organa was right. The Jedi were trained to fight, but that was not their primary function, which instead leaned toward investigation and diplomacy. Furthermore, they trained to fight either alone or in teams of two Knights or as Master and Padawan, not in large formations. In addition, they didn't use long-range weapons or wear any sort of protective uniforms. Putting them all together in a large unit, where they would be devoid of long-range firepower and could be devastated by a few artillery rounds, was madness.  
  
"If I may, General, I have an idea. Perhaps the Jedi under my command should be released to individual unit commanders. I think that our abilities would best be used in scouting and determining enemy intentions. Secondly, our mission from the council is to locate and destroy the Sith Lord who is associated with the Mandalorian army. Spreading ourselves among the units will allow us to cover more ground."  
  
Organa regarded the Jedi for a moment. "Very well. Your reasoning seems sound enough. Send me a list of who goes where and I'll get it done before tomorrow morning. I believe a Master Ki Adi Muundi has requested an assignment on my command staff, to assist my Intelligence and Operations officers, should be here in a couple of hours, so I don't really need you with me, and Master Gallia is serving with the Admiral. Did you have a particular assignment in mind?"  
  
"If you will allow it, General, I'd like to serve with Colonel Naberrie's batallion."  
  
Organa nodded and typed something into a datapad, then removed the datacard and handed it to Obi-Wan. "Very well. Fill out the forms here, and then go to Personnel, third door down on the left. I've put you down for a temporary commission in the rank of Major, assigned to the Naboo batallion staff. A shuttle should be by shortly to take you to their transport ship."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Obi-Wan replied, saluting.  
  
"Good luck, Major. See you on the beach." 


	26. Chapter 25

The sight was breathtaking.  
  
The corvettes and frigates came first, fast, powerful scout ships in line abreast. Behind them, the main body, bulky Dreadnaughts and the angular, deadly Victory Star Destroyers, the heavily armed and armored cruisers, were next to enter realspace. Finally were the massive, ungainly transports and their small escort of warships. The battle line stretched for over fifty kilometers end to end, the rows of brilliant white hulls resembled a constellation of so many deadly, regimented stars.  
  
***  
  
"All ships have entered realspace and are at General Quarters, sir" the comm officer on the Victory's bridge announced.  
  
"Excellent, Commander. Prepare to transmit orders."  
  
"Standing by, Admiral," the Commander replied. Haas seemed to develop a sudden glimmer in his gray eyes, he noticed, or maybe it was just a trick of the bridge lighting. Yet he had heard stories about the Old Man from those who had served with him in combat, how his sharp tongue and temper in time of peace were replaced in battle with an even sharper mind and unshakeable courage.  
  
He hoped these stories were true.  
  
"Scouts are to take up position twenty kilometers forward and arm torpedoes. Upon firing they are to retire to the rear of the battleline and reload. Rear Admiral Otti's ships are to be held as reserve. The rest of the cruisers will launch fighters and deploy them in a defensive screen. No one is to open fire without my orders on pain of court martial, should they live so long."  
  
"Yes sir," the Commander replied, transmitting the Admiral's orders to the fleet.  
  
Haas turned to the Victory's commander, Captain Malar. "Status?"  
  
"All systems online and standing by, sir."  
  
"Good. I'm going to hit them hard with the frigates, engage at close range, and then send Otti up the middle and the frigates around on the flanks."  
  
"A wise plan, sir," the blond Corellian Captain responded.  
  
***  
  
"General Fett, numerous capital ship contacts on approach vector to the planet," the watch officer of the massive battlecruiser Lord Bane announced  
  
"The enemy has arrived," Fett replied, eager to smash the Republic armada and the invasion fleet. This was the moment he had lusted after for years, to command a massive, powerful striking force, worthy of the name, and he would not fail to make the best of his opportunity.  
  
"Order all ships to proceed as planned."  
  
***  
  
The Mandalorian vessels, blood red in contrast to the white of the Republic ships, of hulls of raked angles speaking of deadly purpose, began to congregate from their stations around Aldera, heading for a position opposite the course of the Fifth Fleet, forming up into their own massive line of battle.  
  
In minutes, a clash of forces on a scale not seen in nearly a thousand years would take place.  
  
Meanwhile, unseen, on the opposite side of the planet, the Lord Bane's twin, the battlecruiser Lord Maul and her two escorting frigates dissappeared into hyperspace.  
  
**  
  
The bridge of the frigate Invincible was a place of barely-restrained tension. None of the crew had seen combat before, and now they found themselves in the position of firing some of the first shots in the largest battle ever seen since the Republic's formation.  
  
The smaller vessels had moved well ahead of the cruisers, and Haas had given orders. Frigates and corvettes, with their light guns, thin hulls, and small size, packed a relatively large punch given their excellent sensors and heavy armament of proton torpedo launchers and concussion missiles. Fleet doctrine was that when operating with the battleline, the scouts would attack the enemy capital ships with missiles from extreme range, attempting to cause damage before the cruisers clashed. However, Haas had insisted that Invincible and her companions were instead to target the enemy scouts.  
  
The vessel's commander, Leutenant Commander Varka, thought it a splendid plan. Counting on the enemy's adherence to convention, by separating the scouting line from the main body, by the time the Mandalorians were in torpedo range of the cruisers, they would be vulnerable. Varka knew that the victor in combat was often the one who fired the first shot.  
  
The ensign manning the sensor station looked up from his screen of glowing blips. "Target locked in, Sir. Enemy frigate range one-five-zero kilometers, angle on bow five degrees to starboard, pitch angle neutral."  
  
"Excellent," Varka acknowledged, "transfer data to the torpedoes," he ordered, providing the guided weapons with an indelible binary impression of their target. "Weapons?"  
  
A young lieutenant, the Tactical Officer, turned from his post ahead and to the left of the Captain's station. "All tubes loaded, Sir."  
  
"Deploy launchers to firing position."  
  
A mechanical whine sounded as the missile tubes, sixteen quad-tube launchers spaced all along the frigate's flat surfaces, folded out from their recessed bays in the hull.  
  
"All torpedo mounts in firing position, warheads have acquired targeting data."  
  
"How long until we're in range?" Varka asked the ensign at the sensor display.  
  
"Fifteen seconds, Sir."  
  
"Stand by to fire on the Admiral's order."  
  
**  
  
All along the line, the Republic frigates were deploying weapons. On the bridge of Victory, Haas waited for each squadron commander to report in when the ships were in missile range.  
  
"Squadron twenty five standing by," came the voice of the Sullistan commanding the final group to report in.  
  
"This is Victory, open fire."  
  
**  
  
The space around the frigates erupted in blinding displays of light as in seconds, thousands of proton torpedoes and concussion missiles blasted out of launch tubes, streaking toward the enemy, closing the distance with frightening rapidity.  
  
**  
  
"Multiple high speed contacts in sector twelve! Missiles, commander, we have incoming missiles!"  
  
"How *many,* Ensign?" the commander of the Mandalorian frigate Malice snapped.  
  
"Sixty-three, Sir."  
  
"Damn!" the Mandalorian captain cursed. He suddenly realized that things were starting out far more badly than he had feared. "Evasive maneuvers!" he barked, "Flank speed, down twenty degrees, starboard thirty-five. All guns open fire on those missiles!"  
  
The frigate's guns exploded into action, from her primary turbolasers to the small rapid-firing anti-starfighter turrets - but there were too many targets, each one very small and moving at high velocity, and no time to destroy all of them. Fifteen were intercepted before the first torpedoes slammed into the vessel's shields, more and more hits following in horribly rapid succession. Malice and her crew lasted another thirty seconds.  
  
Most of her compatriots met the same fate, overwhelmed and with no time or room to evade. Dozens of the red vessels exploded in orange, yellow, and white fireballs, leaving massive gaps in once-orderly formations. A few managed to return fire, but the small number of hastily-fired shots did no damage to the Republic fleet.  
  
**  
  
Captain Malar was astonished to see Admiral Haas let out a whoop of exaltation. "By the Force! We caught them with their pants down, Captain!"  
  
Is he a genius, or just crazy? the Captain wondered.  
  
Haas switched on the Fleet comm. "Scouts withdraw and reload. Task Force 1, close with the enemy with all available speed. Don't let them recover!"  
  
**  
  
Hundreds of heavy cruisers traded broadsides from close range. Volleys of heavy turbolasers and ion cannons surged back and forth, the brilliant orange of the explosions mingled with the neon streaks of cannon fire. In between the capital ships, thousands of tiny starfighters dived, climbed, turned, and sped, firing their own blaster cannon and torpedoes, the larger ships answering with streams of fire from thier smaller anti-fighter turrets. Each minute, officers, crewers, and pilots on both sides died by the hundreds.  
  
***  
  
The huge cruiser shuddered with the impact of a hit.  
  
"One got through, Captain," the Victory's damage control officer announced, "Hull breaches in compartments 1081-1083. Damaged sectors have been sealed off, though we lost a turbolaser battery."  
  
"Shields?" the Captain asked.  
  
"80 percent, Sir."  
  
Victory fired another salvo, the shots burning through the shields of the enemy cruiser she was dueling. Through the bridge window, Admiral Haas watched brilliant explosions blossom from the ship's midsection, flinging men, molten metal, and debris out into the vaccum. The cruiser's bow dipped as she lost directional control. A second volley from Victory blew off a hundred meters of the ship's stern.  
  
The bridge crew cheered.  
  
Haas turned back to the large tactical display monitor. He turned to the Victory's commander. "We're being pressed hard on both flanks," the Admiral said, noticing the Republic's lines bending back on the ends, "but we'll hold, and we're hurting 'em bad in the center."  
  
"Should we send forward Otti's reserves, Sir?"  
  
Haas paused for a moment. "I believe so, Captian, smashing through the center will tip the momentum of this battle in our favor." He grabbed his mobile comm. "Admiral Otti, send in your task force."  
  
***  
  
Twenty of the Victories, arrayed in a hollow wedge, advanced from below and to the rear of the battleline. Fighters spilled from the massive ventral hangars as the formation closed on a Mandalore heavy cruiser inflicting severe damage on a Dreadnought opponent. The lead trio of Victories fired all weapons at once, and the Mandalorian vanished at once in a brilliant flash, the ensuing explosion damaging her frigate escort and wiping out a clone fighter squadron.  
  
***  
  
On the bridge of Lord Bane, near the center of the Mandalore line and so far not yet committed to battle, Jango Fett paced with nervous tension. At last, a vast fleet was under his command, he had received a chance at his dream - an epic battle against a powerful enemy - and he relished every minute.  
  
"General, the enemy has just sent in strong reserves," Bane's Captain reported. "We're managing small gains on the flanks, but our center is in danger of rupture."  
  
Fett paused. "The enemy's new cruisers are more formindable than we imagined," he remarked. The dagger-shaped vessels were extremely well armed and capable of shrugging off vast amounts of incoming fire, and in the center, where most of the new ships were concentrated, they had proved deadly. "Yet our main target is virtually unprotected. Send the signal to Lord Maul - return and engage."  
  
***  
  
"Six, you have two on your tail, coming in high"  
  
"BREAK, Yellow Lead, BREAK NOW!!"  
  
"I got him!"  
  
"Good shooting, Five"  
  
"I've taken a hit in my starboard eng...."  
  
Anakin listened to the comm, set to one of the fighter channels, imagining thousands of dogfights and maneuvers. The impressions in the Force with each voice were varied...fear of a first combat, desperation for an endangered ship or wingman, elation of the first kill or a narrow escape from death, or surprise, pain, and after that eternal silence.  
  
His Headhunter was on standby, repulsorlifts set at minimal power, ion engines spooled up and ready for the fuel that would stream in when he so much as twitched the throttle, resting in the launch bay of Freedom's hangar. Ahead of him he could see Blue's One Flight, and he knew his four pilots, the rest of Blue, and Red Squadron were behind him.  
  
He hated the waiting, sitting in the cramped cockpit and glancing over the instrument panel for the hundredth time, waiting for the launch order that might never come. Instead of being on the front lines, speeding and gyrating in the freedom and elation of flying a high-performance starfighter, he was stuck guarding the transports, ordered on standby to save fuel.  
  
Suddenly, however, an ear-splitting alarm shattered his thoughts. "All squadrons launch immediately, all squadrons launch immediately! Enemy ships have entered realspace in Sector one-oh-seven!" 


	27. Chapter 26

The hulking battlecruiser Lord Maul and her escorts materialized into the empty space behind the massive convoy of transports. Hundreds of turbolaser shots raced outward towards the rearmost ships. The bulk freighter Iego, carrying thousands of tons of artillery shells, took half a dozen heavy turbolaser hits, exploding in a giant ball of fire and superheated gas which destroyed two adjacent supply vessels.  
  
**  
  
The voice of Freedom's Fighter Control Officer was loud in Anakin's helmet comm.  
  
"Scramble all fighters, repeat, scramble all fighters!"  
  
His hands were moving rapidly over the controls, the fighter's landing skids already half a meter above the hangar floor as he set the repulsorlift for takeoff.  
  
"Blue Squadron, this is Blue Lead, report in"  
  
"Blue five is green on all four," Anakin responded, referring to his engine status. The other pilots answered in a similar manner.  
  
"Blue Squadron, this is fighter control, you are clear to assemble for launch immediately"  
  
Blue Lead had now pulled his fighter forward from its maintenance bay and began to slowly taxi towards the massive hangar door, now open, a selective particle shield holding air inside the hangar yet allowing the fighters to exit. The rest of Blue Squadron was forming up in order behind the leader in order in the hangar's launch and retrieval strip. Ahead of Anakin, a crewman motioned him forward and he eased the throttles ahead, beginning a slow taxi run. When he had pulled a ship length ahead, the deck crewman signaled for a right turn toward the flight line, and he maneuvered into place a dozen meters behind Blue Four.  
  
"Blue Squadron, this is lead, form up by flights on vector two-one-seven," Lead said, indicating the point where the fighters would join formation after launch.  
  
In less than two minutes Anakin was in position to lauch, the nose of his fighter hovering over a painted strip on the hangar deck floor. The deck officer saluted, Anakin returned the gesture, and the man gave the launch signal. Anakin shoved the throttle forward on all four engines, the acceleration pressing him back against his ejector seat as the hangar walls receded ahead. He half-rolled the fighter to the left and pulled back on the stick, streaking out the large open launch/recovery area on the Victory- class cruiser's ventral hull. His trajectory terminated at the bottom of a half loop, and Anakin placed the fighter on course for the squadron's assembly point.  
  
**  
  
Haas watched with satisfaction as the enemy center broke, the wedge of Victory cruisers smashing through the enemy lines and heading toward the huge Mandalorian command ship.  
  
"Admiral, Sir!" Haas' communications officer said, his voice anything but composed and professional. "A massive enemy battlecruiser force is attacking the rear of our transport column. We've just lost three ships!"  
  
The Admiral was shocked, and horrified. He had just ordered the main fleet's reserves into action in the enemy center, and now the small force assigned to protect the transports would have to deal with an enemy that possessed much greater firepower.  
  
He quickly stalled his panic. He was the commander, he had planned the Fleet's deployment, and he was the one who would have to save the invasion force.  
  
"Orders, Sir?" the man asked, the desperation not leaving his voice.  
  
"We can't divert ships from here right now, they'd take too long and it would weaken our line. We're too close to breaking the enemy main force to let them recover. Tell Freedom that Task Force Three will have to hold them off until we can take care of business here. Have our frigates reloaded their torpedo launchers?"  
  
"Yes, Admiral."  
  
"Order them to reform behind the cruisers on the flanks. Have the cruisers hold the enemy until the frigates can get around the flanks to the rear, then order them to fire a second volley of torpedoes. Order the invasion fleet to proceed at full speed towards the battleline."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Damn it, Commander, just follow your orders! As soon as we can send cruisers, they will get there faster," he yelled at the younger man.  
  
He could only hope that Freedom and her small force could hold out long enough.  
  
**  
  
Freedom and her accompanying task force turned towards the new threat. On the bridge, Admiral Tahan's expression was grim.  
  
"All ships proceed to engage at maximum speed"  
  
"Sir?" the Freedom's captain asked.  
  
"If we can hold them off long enough, we may be able to save the transports. If we lose them, well, we've lost the mission."  
  
Either way, we will probably die in the process, Tahan thought.  
  
Yet there was no other choice. The battlecruiser outgunned his entire fleet, but he might be able to cripple the enemy, or at least buy time. He hoped it would be enough.  
  
"Understood, Sir."  
  
"Order our fighters forward to cripple the battlecruiser as much as they can. Prepare to have the cruisers fire all missile tubes from long range. The smaller ships are to keep the escorts occupied."  
  
If he could engage at long range, do damage, then close quickly, and if the fighters could support the attack, his task force might have a fighting chance. While his ships were inferior, they could still outmaneuver the larger vessel and prevent the enemy from concentrating his shields and fire in any one threatened sector.  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
**  
  
Blue Squadron was now formed up in a loose wedge formation, one flight in front and the other two covering the flanks and rear. Red was also formed up and ready to attack. Below him, Anakin saw the huge convoy of transports changing course and at the same time trying to keep an orderly formation, heading for the dubious safety of the battleline ahead.  
  
However, it was the huge red enemy vessel turning to meet the Republic warships which occupied most of his attention.  
  
"Blue Squadron, we're going to cover for Red, then we're going in."  
  
"Copy, Lead," Anakin said.  
  
"If you don't see any enemy fighters, try to draw off some of that cruiser's defensive fire."  
  
This was standard practice. Present the enemy with two groups of fighters, one making the attack run, the other running interference, or if possible, suppressing the anti-fighter batteries. Anakin felt a chill as he thought of how many rapid-firing gun emplacements would fit on such a massive vessel. Or how many fighters such a ship could carry in its hangar.  
  
**  
  
There was a mood of triumph on the Lord Maul's bridge. Victory seemed imminent, and very few believed that the gigantic vessel would have any serious problem dispatching the Republic's cruisers approaching to engage.  
  
"Enemy is deploying fighters, estimate four squadrons."  
  
"Very well. Launch four squadrons of our own, and have the rest hold back on alert." the Maul's commander replied.  
  
Although the Lord Maul and Lord Bane were externally identical from a visual standpoint, the ships did have an important difference. Bane was designed with a secondary ability as a heavy transport, as were most of the Mandalorian heavy vessels, so that the shipyards could focus on creating warships rather than transports, which would be useless in combat. Bane's hangar bay had been fitted to carry hundreds of armored vehicles and artillery pieces, and empty of spacecraft except for a few large assault ships which conveyed the tanks and guns to the surface.  
  
Maul, on the other hand, became a carrier vessel. Her massive hangar was the largest single compartment inside the ship, and carried just over eight hundred fighters. Her commander planned to deal with the small force of enemy fighters quickly, then dispatch the rest to hunt down fleeing and scattered transports.  
  
**  
  
As the Headhunters came rapidly closer to the enemy, they could see several tiny sensor blots and flashes of ion engines scurrying from the larger ship.  
  
"Blue Leader, this is Red Leader, I see enemy fighters heading in our direction."  
  
"Copy that, Red. Blue Squadron, engage."  
  
Anakin opened the throttles as the fighters began to close.  
  
The fight for Aldera had entered a new phase. 


	28. Chapter 27

"Give me a fast ship, for I intend to go in harm's way"  
  
-John Paul Jones  
  
Tahan watched as the monster ship's bow disappeared into a kaleidoscope of explosions as torpedoes impacted against the shields and the armored hull. When he could at last see the damage, the signs were not encouraging.  
  
The bow of the ship was twisted, broken, blackened, and holed in several places, with steams of fire jetting outward, fed by the escaping atmosphere. Several gun batteries could be seen, the turrets melted into slag, barrels twisted at strange angles. Yet the damage on a ship of that size was hardly critical, or even crippling, and now the battlecruiser was in range to fire her own weapons.  
  
"Maximum reserve power to forward shields," Freedom's Captain ordered. A moment later, brilliant waves of light, bolts from hundreds of heavy turbolasers and ion cannons, erupted from the ship as it fired back.  
  
The bow of the cruiser glowed, and the Admiral was nearly toppled from his feet by violent shudders, though he managed to grab onto a nearby sensor console.  
  
Alarm claxons wailed, and sirens flashed at several bridge stations. Tahan looked back at the cruiser's bow and saw it a mass of twisted durasteel, smoke, and flames.  
  
"Damage report!" the Captain said, recovering his footing.  
  
"Massive hull breaches in forward compartments. Ten main turrets and twelve ion cannons are failing to respond. Forward shields completely down. Forward thruster arrays not responding. Bow tractor beams destroyed."  
  
"Seal off the damaged areas, Commander. Bring us around 90 degrees starboard and put all power to starboard shields."  
  
Tahan only half listened, instead preoccupied by the Dreadnaught Guardian visible ahead, the last 100 meters of stern the only remaining part of the vessel now recognizable as a warship.  
  
**  
  
"Freedom fighters, this is Freedom Control. Don't worry about us, your orders are to attack that ship."  
  
Anakin felt a chill despite the heated cockpit. The situation was desperate enough that his home ship was refusing her fighter cover.  
  
"Two flight, keep a tight formation, and don't waste your shots." Anakin said to the three pilots under his command, "Once we're past them, break hard to starboard."  
  
A trio of clicks sounded in acknowledgement.  
  
Blue Squadron was now coming into gun range with the enemy fighters. Anakin bled power to his forward shields and picked his target, which from its position slightly ahead of its group, looked to be a flight leader.  
  
For a moment his mind drifted to a decade before, when he was nine years old and in the cockpit of a Naboo starfighter caught in the middle of a battle. It had been easier then - it seemed like an adventure, or a surreal experience, and it never really occurred to him that he might very well be killed.  
  
As his target, bracketed in the glowing red of his gunsights, drew closer, he wished he had that youthful, naïve detachment now.  
  
Laser fire rushed toward him from the enemy fighter's nose, but with impossibly fast reactions aided by the Force, Anakin twitched his ship downward and then back up, evading the shots. His targeting computer re- acquired the Mandalorian almost at once, and Anakin fired moments before the two ships collided head-on. The red starfighter vanished in an expanding ball of fire as Anakin wrenched the Headhunter around in a tight bank. He stretched out around him with the Force and searched with his eyes, finding only 3 enemy fighters had survived and were attempting to disengage, no longer a threat for the moment, and that Blue Seven was now nothing but molten alloy.  
  
"Eight, form up on my other wing. If they catch you alone, you're dead."  
  
"Copy, Five."  
  
Anakin looked back at his sensors just as Blue Three shouted a warning.  
  
"More inbounds, Sector Four, coming in fast!"  
  
"Blue Leader, this is Red Leader, we'll take 'em this time if you want a shot at that big ugly ship over there."  
  
"Sounds good, Red. Blue Squadron, we're going in."  
  
Anakin's flight, now down to three, streaked ahead.  
  
**  
  
Admiral Haas turned his attention to the battle nearer at hand. His frigates had launched another devastating torpedo attack, severely mauling the enemy flanks, and were now racing around to the rear.  
  
"Flanking groups, concentrate your fire on their engines," he said over the fleet comm. "We don't want them getting away."  
  
Ahead, a group of Admiral Otti's ships traded volleys with the huge enemy command vessel. Although the Victories were numerous, the enemy ship was both powerful and well-handled by her commander and continued to hold her own. Cruiser captains along the line reported gaps and breakthroughs among the enemy line. It was the situation in the Fleet's rear, however, which concerned Haas the most.  
  
He turned to a communications officer from his staff manning a nearby console.  
  
"What's Tahan's situation, Commander?"  
  
"Not good, Admiral," the blonde human female replied. "His force is massively outgunned and suffering heavy damage. If we don't do something quick, we'll lose the transports."  
  
"Damn!" Haas said. "how long would it take for the transport fleet to clear Aldera's gravity and micro-jump out-system?"  
  
"Ten minutes, Admiral, but I don't think they'll have that long."  
  
Haas clamped down on his anger. If he sent more ships to the rear, many of the enemy in the main battleline might escape, preventing him from the total destruction of the Mandalore fleet. Yet his primary mission was clear: support the invasion, which meant that protecting the transports carrying the ground troops was more important.  
  
Having made one mistake, he would not make another.  
  
"Commander, I want status on any cruisers we have in good shape that can disengage. Order them to assist the Freedom task force."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
**  
  
It was like flying over a city, except that this particular city had anti- starfighter cannon mounted on many of its rooftops, and all of the inhabitants were trying to kill him. It was difficult to make out details as his fighter rushed by at full power, only meters above the seemingly unbroken stream of red durasteel.  
  
Anakin weaved the Z-95 between superstructure towers, his two wingmates close behind him and to either side, forming a small triangle. Streams of cannon fire reached out towards him, and his flight path was dotted with small, erratic maneuvers intended to avoid enemy fire, or to confuse the targeting predictors.  
  
Blue Leader, a few hundred meters ahead, was once again reminding his men of what they were supposed to be doing. Considering their training, it might have seemed superfluous, but Anakin knew the Commander was a veteran, and knew that in the excitement and terror of combat, unseasoned pilots might not always react in the proper manner. "Blue Squadron, don't waste your torps on hard targets. Aim for command and sensor structures."  
  
Anakin spotted an antenna cluster ahead and opened fire with his cannon, melting the thin metal tubes and sending blue sparks arcing down to the deck below.  
  
**  
  
Admiral Hessko watched with satisfaction as the pitiful force of cruisers absorbed hit after hit from the Lord Maul's batteries. All of them were severely damaged, one was almost completely destroyed, and many knocked out of the fight. The Dreadnaughts had made quick work of his frigate escorts, and the enemy fought back as well as it was capable of, but it did not matter. It would take a force of at least twice that size, the Admiral reasoned, to deal with his battlecruiser without crippling losses. And soon, the enemy would be destroyed except for a few fighter squadrons, all but impotent against his vessel. Then he would turn on the transports, launching his own fighters held in reserve, and annihilate the enemy's invasion fleet.  
  
By the time their reinforcements from the main battle line arrived, it would be too late.  
  
He saw the most powerful Republic ship, one of the wedge-shaped heavy cruiser designs with a large section of her bow blown away, fire back at the Lord Maul.  
  
"Captain," he ordered, "concentrate your firepower on that vessel. It is probably their command ship."  
  
**  
  
Tahan knew his force would fail, but it did not matter. Each second his own command suffered heavy casualties, yet in war, sometimes it became necessary to trade lives for time, and this was one of those occasions.  
  
Around him, several of the bridge crew lie motionless and others, wounded, cried out in agony. An ion cannon blast had struck Freedom's bridge tower and an overloaded transformer connected to several instrument panels had exploded among a tightly-packed group of duty officers, flinging razor-like fragments of plasteel and transparisteel throughout the bridge. Tahan had only been spared when an Ensign beside him absorbed the main force of the explosion.  
  
He pushed the Devonarian's body off of him and rose to his knees. The bridge was now filling with smoke from electrical fires, and his eyes watered uncontrollably as he struggled for breath. The fire suppression system did not appear to be working. Many of the overhead lights were destroyed, and those remaining began to flicker, plunging the command bridge further into darkness.  
  
"Fire control? Fire control? Come in, Fire Control?"  
  
The voice, distorted with static, sounded from a nearby command console. Tahan walked slowly toward the Chief Gunnery Officer's station where the man sat lifeless, arm and head hanging bloody and limp. The Admiral picked up the dangling comlink and tried not to notice the carnage around him, or that his hand was covered in blood.  
  
"This is the Admiral to all hands" he said between gasps of acrid air. "The bridge is gone. All weapons stations, continue to fire. Captain Madrik now has command of the task force. "  
  
Freedom's still-functional batteries fired again, wreaking havoc on the enemy ship, but once again failing to inflict a decisive blow.  
  
Tahan felt strangely lightheaded, and he knew that he too had been injured. Peering through the haze and the bridge windows, he saw the enemy vessel's huge turrets rotating to face his stricken ship. He wondered if it were true that just before death, his life would flash before his eyes.  
  
It did not.  
  
**  
  
Blue Squadron continued its strafing run. Just ahead of Anakin, a main turret, so large that a squadron of headhunters could easily land on its upper surface, swiveled with surprising speed toward a new target. Anakin saw the barrels of the weapon, several dozen meters long and with a diameter equal to a fighter's wingspan, and watched in horror as they began to cut directly into the path of Blue Leader and his wingman, Blue Two.  
  
"Get clear, Lead!" he shouted, but it was too late. The fighters collided with the massive barrels at full speed and disappeared in bright explosions. Unfazed by the impact, the heavily armored turret fired a moment later.  
  
Anakin pounded his instrument panel in his rage. That's exactly how much good we're doing against this thing, he thought. Good men are being killed and it isn't going to make any damn difference whatsoever.  
  
And then the space around the battlecruiser was enveloped by a tiny supernova as Freedom exploded.  
  
**  
  
War cries erupted from the Mandalore bridge crew. Hessko thrust his fist in the air at an angle in the traditional Mandalorian victory gesture.  
  
He turned to Lord Maul 's captain and relayed his next orders.  
  
"Begin launching our fighters and have them cut off the transport fleet. We have them, men!"  
  
**  
  
"Sir, the Freedom has just been destroyed."  
  
Admiral Haas looked as though he had been physically struck.  
  
His cruisers would never make it in time.  
  
He had failed.  
  
**  
  
Anakin felt nothing except another spike in his rage, and the overwhelming desire for revenge.  
  
"Blue Squadron, this is Blue Five. Lead and the XO are dead. I'm assuming command."  
  
"Copy, blue Five is now Blue Lead," the commander of Three Flight acknowledged.  
  
"All fighters disengage and form up for another pass. We'll take the port side this time."  
  
Anakin had little faith in another pass, or even another dozen. His squadron, now down to half strength, with the other fighter squadrons tangling with their enemy counterparts and unable to engage the battlecruiser, was nearly all that remained between the enemy and the transport fleet. Even with proton torpedoes, the task seemed hopeless. Yet he would not abandon the fight as long as he was still alive and possessing ammunition.  
  
He turned back toward the enemy ship, approaching from the stern. He saw a fighter emerge from the vessel's port side, then another.  
  
"Watch those fighters," he warned his pilots.  
  
They would soon be caught between fighters and defensive fire from the cruiser.  
  
As if to underscore the point, Blue Six, to his starboard rear, abruptly spun out of control, one of the stabilizing foils sheared off by a stream from an anti-fighter battery.  
  
Several shots dissipated against his forward shields as he found himself once again flying only meters away from the enemy vessel's hull. Ahead he could see two more of the angular red fighters leaving what had to be the ship's main hangar. He tried to overcome the creeping feeling of inevitable doom and to channel the massive power within him.  
  
Something nudged his mind in the Force, much like it had done just before he fired the torpedo into the Trade Federation battleship's reactor.  
  
The next few seconds were a blur to him until he found his fighter, squadron mates fast on his tail, streaking away from the battlecruiser and into open space.  
  
**  
  
The Mandalore fighter, its genetically engineered pilot eager to engage the enemy and score a first kill, blasted from the hangar behind its squadmates.  
  
The pilot did not see the proton torpedo.  
  
Naval engineers and architects producing military designs had long known that hangar doors were a potential fatal weakness even in an otherwise well- armored warship. To counter this vulnerability, the Lord Maul's design incorporated polarized, selective shields in her huge hangar bay, which would permit relatively slow-moving starfighters to pass, but were rated as impervious to multiple proton torpedo or heavy turbolaser direct hits.  
  
Anakin's shot, timed with a precision aided by the use of a Force no engineer had factored into the equation for what was believed to be an impossible scenario, had managed to subvert the battlecruiser's otherwise formidable defenses.  
  
The proton torpedo impacted just forward of the fighter's canopy on the starboard side, just as the ship's nose emerged from the shield barrier. The ship's forward section exploded when the torpedo hit, and as the explosion travelled farther toward the ship's stern section, it reached the fuel tank just aft of the wings, and the fighter became in effect a conduit between the vacuum and Lord Maul's hangar.  
  
One of the interceptor's ion engines, blown rearwards from its mounting, was flung onto the fighter immediately behind waiting to launch. The glowing mass of engine detonated the small craft and in turn, those nearby. In the tightly packed hangar full of over 750 fully-loaded starfighters, it was disastrous.  
  
Ships, fuel carts, and ammunition carriers detonated one after another in a rippling chain reaction. The hangar shields now held fast against the high- velocity debris and expanding fireball. The crescendo of explosions was unable to vent through the hangar openings, and instead, turned its heat and pressure to the interior of the Maul herself. The blasts ripped through layers of decks and armored bulkheads, killing thousands and reaching other stores of explosive materials, including the vessel's fuel cells.  
  
The stern half of the ship, larger than several Victory cruisers, vaporized in a sudden flash, leaving what remained of the bow a drifting, burning, glowing hulk of twisted durasteel floating helpless in space.  
  
**  
  
General Fett swore, trying to contain the overwhelming urge to destroy everything and everyone around him in his fury.  
  
In a single instant, his strategy had literally vaporized.  
  
The Bane continued exchanging volleys with enemy cruisers with little to show for either side. His battleline was starting to evaporate as Republic cruisers penetrated the gaps and frigates swarmed his flanks and rear.  
  
"Orders, General?" one of his staff officers asked.  
  
Fett whirled to face the man, resisting the temptation to send him flying across the bridge. He wanted to order his ships to charge in and take as many of the enemy with them as possible, as a fate befitting great warriors. Yet Sidious and Raptor had denied him this option. Their orders were clear: if the situation became untenable, escape, and the Sith Lords alone were the two beings in the galaxy Jango Fett truly feared.  
  
"All ships, general withdrawal," he said, forcing the words between clenched teeth. "Use the prearranged rally point, each vessel is to plot a separate course with at least 4 waypoints."  
  
"Yes, General."  
  
**  
  
One moment, a raging battle, and the next, almost nothing. Admiral Haas let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. Space in front of Victory was almost empty, the enemy command ship turning tail and vanishing into hyperspace with surprising speed.  
  
The threat to his rear, too, vanished. Haas was uncertain as to the cause, only that several transport captains and fighter crews reported the after portion of the ship was obliterated, the rest a burning hulk.  
  
Haas believed very little of fate or destiny, but it seemed that now, as he stood on the Victory's bridge, that events gave him pause.  
  
Yet there was still a battle to run. Several Mandalore ships were too crippled to escape, yet continued to fight down to the last battery, refusing surrender. Fighters dueled with an enemy now low on fuel, mother ships gone, and with nothing to lose. Yet it was now merely a question of time and of mopping up the survivors. The main engagement was over, and the task force would redeploy and lick its wounds. Many ships were damaged or destroyed. Haas thought of Admiral Tahan and Freedom, with her 5,000-strong crew, none left alive but a scattering of fighter pilots, and the casualties on the other ships damaged or destroyed. He remembered the energetic young Rear Admiral who had shown so much promise in excercises, now dead when he should never had needed to face an overwhelming enemy. In the end it was he who gave the orders, and he who bore the final responsibility.  
  
A part of his soul, some vestige perhaps of a more primal existence, seemed to thrive in the midst of combat, as though only on a bridge of a cruiser or frigate, he was in his element. He relished the rush of adrenaline, the battle of wits against a deadly enemy, the intricate maneuvers of massive fleets, yet he did not love war for its often terrible cost.  
  
But now was not yet time to reflect.  
  
"Comm, send to General Organa. Tell him to begin the assault." 


	29. Chapter 28

To an observer looking on from the fortifications along the southern coast of Aldera, it was a strangely beautiful sight, utterly belying the promise of destruction and death to follow.  
  
As Alderaan's primary rose into a brilliant orange sky, thousands of tiny black dots appeared over the distant horizon, reaching up thousands of meters to the stratosphere and beyond, slowly, ever so slowly, but inevitably coming closer and closer by the instant.  
  
A rain of turbolaser fire from three Dreadnaughts proceeded them, hundreds of energy bolts raking the Mandalore defenses.  
  
The gunships came behind as the bombardment lifted, almost insectile in appearance, with bulging canopies, fat bodies, and stubby rectangular wings from which were suspended oblong cylinders. They rushed forward, deployed from the large carriers which conveyed them to the surface from space, skimming only meters above the eerily calm ocean at a deceptively frightening speed, spread out in small wedge-shaped formations. The lead formations pulled up when reaching the shore and the pilots throttled back the engines, leaving them hanging almost motionless in the air, nose cannon slowly tracking right and left, the repulsorlifts and ion drives kicking up huge clouds of sand and deafening those foolish enough to be exposed without audio-dampened helmets. In unison, they began unleashing clouds of rockets from under the wings, as their blaster cannon fired incessantly, sweeping along the trenches, searching out anything foolish enough to move which might remotely resemble a threat.  
  
Soon, the entire trenchline was obscured in thick smoke and dust as rockets expended, the gunships roared away and for a moment, all was eerie silence save for a few secondary explosions and roaring fires of burning equipment.  
  
The main assault wave, thousands of shuttles mixed with larger transports and more protective gunships, was now only kilometers away, and the beach came to life as Mandalorian soldiers, hiding deep underground during the bombardment, came forward to man the trenches and bunkers. Several carried shoulder-fired surface to air missiles, rockets from the trenches and hidden batteries behind them, and from a few of the long-ranged emplacements in the city itself streaked out toward the descending armada, blotting transports from the sky in fiery explosions, while others radically evaded, attempting to avoid colliding with other ships nearby, and others limped toward the beach or the ocean, trailing smoke.  
  
Gunships began to break formation and streak forward, firing at flashes, trying to suppress the missile crews as the first few transports began to flare, ready to disgorge their troops. One dissappeared in an explosion, flipped over on its back by a repulsorlift-activated mine, smoke pouring from the repulsor drives and open hatches as screaming, stricken men clambered out onto the beach, rolling around in the sand in agony. But more transports began landing, the clamshell doors in the rear of the ships opening as infantrymen began pouring out, weapons ready, squad support weapons opening up suppressive fire as others joined in with carbines, the troops moving in short rushes, crouched low to the ground, heading for craters, large rock formations, dunes, anything that would provide cover.  
  
Slowly they began to gather, in small and then larger groups, those who could not find their nearby formations heading for whatever position they could see. Transports, once free of their cargo, began to turn about and return to their ships, making room for more to land.  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan did his best to calm himself. Perhaps it was the Naboo officer's uniform - to a man accustomed to wearing Jedi robes every day of his life, the maroon uniform with its protective armor and major's insignia - made him feel strange, feel almost naked despite the protective gear. As if to symbolize a man out of his element, he wore his decidedly non-regulation lightsaber on one hip, and a standard issue blaster, which he thought a terribly crude, random weapon for a Jedi, on the other.  
  
Beside him, Sabe stopped honing the wicked-looking vibroblade and slipped it into a sheath on her calf-high combat boots the handmaidens wore into battle. Others were going through last-minute checks of weapons and equipment. In usual operations, the headquarters unit did not become involved in close combat, but their shuttle was to land immediately behind the batallion's three infantry companies, weapons company, and engineer platoon. The impression in the Force was mixed fear, adrenaline, anticipation, and anger against the brutal enemy. Many of the soldiers had families killed or displaced in Theed.  
  
He was nervous. Obi-Wan was no stranger to combat, but a full-scale battle was a new experience. Here, the opponent was not often in saber and pistol range, and death could come from a nameless artillery shell fired from dozens of kilometers away. As a Jedi, he was trained in the operations of the Republic's major institutions, including the military. He recalled lectures from the Military Academy's instructors on the history, art, and science of war, and on the Republic's armed forces. He had an excellent memory, and seemed to display an aptitude for the principles of warfare, but his rather scant knowledge was little comfort.  
  
He had done his best to familiarize himself with his duties. As an assistant to Padme's staff, he was not leading men in the field directly, but as an officer responsible in helping the commander make informed decisions, his failure could still result in large numbers of casualties. It was a sobering thought, and he asked the Force for guidance so that he might prove worthy of the task.  
  
**  
  
"Lord Raptor," the General of Artillery said, "our forward units report the enemy troops unloading from their transports in large numbers."  
  
In his position in a public park near the city center, nine batteries, each with four 200-millimeter heavy long-range field guns, waited for orders. The weapons were already loaded, the crews standing at ready. Raptor had pooled all the heaviest field gun units, the ones with sufficient range to reach the beaches from the inner city, from his 3-division corps and placed them under his command as the Corps Chief of Artillery. They were masked from the air by camoflauge nets, trees, and the fires set in the city from huge piles of combustible materials to make it difficult for ships orbiting above to locate his positions.  
  
His guns were registered on the beaches days before in anticipation of an assault landing. The rain of shells, modified concussion missile warheads fitted with fragmenting alloy jackets, would devastate the enemy troops when they were most vulnerable - on the beach, exposed, and without armor or heavy support weapons. If they tried to advance from under the murderous barrage, they would be mowed down by the men in the bunkers and trenches.  
  
Raptor's voice came through the comlink only a moment later, though it seemed much longer.  
  
"Your batteries are released, General."  
  
The officer smiled and switched his comm. Frequency to his battalion commanders. "Continuous fire, all batteries."  
  
The ground shook as the huge artillery pieces fired, reverse-polarity magnetic fields hurtling the heavy shells down dozen-meter barrels, moments later followed by huge rippling booms as the projectiles hurtled through the sound barrier. The heavy untility landspeeders providing massive electric current to the guns recharged as the gunners reloaded the weapons, placing shells in loading trays for rammers to shove them into the weapons' breeches. Fifteen seconds later, the guns fired again with another devastating salvo.  
  
**  
  
The shuttle bucked with increasing turbulence as it entered the denser air at sea level. Despite the armored construction of the platoon-carrying assault shuttle, he could hear huge explosions and sense the chaos below him. It was maddening to be in a transparisteel box without even windows to see the battlefield below. There was another explosion, much nearer this time, followed by a hammering shock wave. One of the transports must have been hit, Obi-Wan thought.  
  
A small green light next to the shuttle's exit ramp in the stern flickered into life. The loadmaster took position near the ramp's operating switch.  
  
"Sixty seconds!" he called out. "Stand in the door!" The men and women rose, unstrapping from their seat harnesses and grabbing the hand rails mounted on the cabin ceiling to steady themselves against the buffeting.  
  
"Everyone find cover as soon as you hit the beach!" Padme yelled.  
  
"Thirty seconds!"  
  
There were several "clicks" of blasters being readied and ruffling sounds as soldiers checked their gear for the last time.  
  
The transport's descent slowed, deceleration pushing them downwards, and the floor tilted up at an angle. The ship held steady, no longer descending, hovering just above the ground below.  
  
There was a loud metallic clank as the ramp release engaged, and then a high-pitched whine of servomotors.  
  
The sound of explosions intensified around him, hammering his eardrums and shaking the vessel. A blast of cold air rushed in through the open cabin.  
  
"Go! Go! Go!" the loadmaster shouted. The first rank of five soldiers moved forward and jumped down to the beach. Obi-Wan's file was next as he leapt from the metal ramp and planted his boots onto the surface of hell.  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan crouched and stepped through the billowing sand thrown upward by the assault shuttle's repulsors. Blaster bolts impacted the beach all around him, making popping noises and small fountains of sand. He saw a shell crater ahead and rushed forward, diving for cover.  
  
Bright flashes of flame and smoke, accompanied by deep thunderclaps and pounding concussion waves, exploded all along the beach. Padme and the rest of the headquarters unit fell into the crater around him.  
  
He peered over the crater's rim, seeing death and destruction all around. Burning and wrecked assault shuttles, scattered equipment, and bodies covered the beach. Men huddled near whatever cover they could find seeking shelter from the barrage and repeating blaster fire from the bunkers. Many were hit as they scrambled to new positions.  
  
Padme pulled out her comlink.  
  
"This is Alpha Lead, all units report in!"  
  
Obi-Wan listened with dismay as the unit commanders reported their situations. A Company, ahead and on the left flank, had lost its entire first platoon, shot down in their transport. B company in the center reported taking heavy casualties from artillery fire. C Company, on the right, was little better. The engineer platoon had become separated from the formation when their transport had dodged an incoming missile, and were pinned down and unable to rejoin the rest of the battalion. D Company, the mortar unit, reported no casualties and the crews were attempting to set up their weapons behind the hulk of a burning transport.  
  
There was no word from the commander of the Corellian combat engineer company that Corps had attached to their sector.  
  
The batallion's objective loomed far ahead and to the right, a outward- jutting rock formation with relatively shallow slopes covered with armored bunkers. The bunkers protected the flanks of the approach to the easternmost of the three main roads leading to the city. The engineers were to assault the bunkers and the infantrymen to follow and clear a sector of trenches, then hold the flanks of the breach against any counterattacks.  
  
However, unless someone could stop the rain of artillery fire and suppress the bunkers, their task would be impossible.  
  
**  
  
The Corellian Corvette Shadowwraith hovered dozens of kilometers above the battlefield. The ship was a prototype of a unique class of specialized vessel intended for supporting ground assaults. Unfortunately, only two vessels were completed before the Senate cancelled the program. Now, however, she would be put to the test.  
  
"Target acquired," a youthful Gran ensign reported from his sensor station on the vessel's hammerhead bridge. "Enemy heavy artillery park, estimate regimental strength, co-ordinates CZ09341."  
  
The vessel's advanced sensors, though unable to pierce the obscuring clouds of black smoke from the burning city, were nonetheless able to detect the artillery shells being fired from an unknown source, analyze the data, compute their trajectory, and arrive at the point of the projectiles' origin.  
  
"Excellent work, Ensign Ahk," the Rodian female commanding Shadowwraith said. She counted herself lucky the enemy guns were not widely dispersed, as her ship's primary weapon system could fire only one salvo. "It's time we show the credit-pinchers in the Senate what this rustbucket can do, and prevent our troops from getting slaughtered down there. Chief Gunnery Officer Sojaran, open fire."  
  
**  
  
The Shadowwraith's "thorax" section between the bridge and engine bank set her apart from other ships of similar design. The ship was designed as the first of a new class of support weapon, the Shadow class artillery suppression platform. Her center section was lengthened twenty meters and widened by two meters. The modification allowed for a central weapons bay which held eighty downward-pointing heavy concussion missile launch tubes. Her light blue color scheme made of specially absorptive paint and state-of- the-art passive sensors, combined with her high operating altitude and powerful antigravs enabling her to hang motionless above her target, made the vessel both deadly and nearly invisible.  
  
At Sorjoran's orders, the weapons bay doors folded outward and the missile tubes fired in one huge blast, sending lethal projectiles streaking towards the center of Aldera.  
  
**  
  
The General of Artillery smiled beneath his helmet. His batteries were slaughtering the enemy, many caught in the first salvo, while observers stationed in the trenches called in precise targeting data on groups of pinned-down infantry. No naval fire had engaged his guns, and the enemy had no artillery of sufficient range or power to reach his firing positions.  
  
It was going to be a massacre.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a howling shriek from above. He threw himself to the bottom of his command pit as the air itself seemed to explode at once, and then grow silent. He stood, taking in the scene around him. The rich grass of the park had vanished, replaced by a field of huge craters. His batteries were in shambles, guns overturned, crews lying dead next to the guns or flung meters away and landing in odd juxtapositions atop burning vehicles and equipment. A group of unexploded shells ignited, the blast wave slamming him to the ground.  
  
The men in the trenches would have to repel the enemy alone.  
  
**  
  
"Blue Squadron, Lead. Status report."  
  
The chorus of responses indicated varying degrees of damage to the Headhunters, though none imminently fatal. The enemy battlecruiser's detonation had sent massive waves of electromagnetic radiation blasting through space, overloading the fighters' rear shields and damaging sensitive equipment such as sensor arrays. The enemy force had retreated, and there was no immediate threat, but all of the fighters were running low on fuel and in need of a hangar berth. If Anakin didn't find a ship soon, they would need to be tractored on board one of the cruisers.  
  
Anakin tuned his comm to the emergency frequency. "This is Blue Squadron of the 146th Starfighter Wing, requesting pickup, over."  
  
**  
  
Haas stared at the man in disbelief.  
  
"One of our snubfighters took out that cruiser, Commander?"  
  
"That's what Vigilant's data stream would indicate, sir. Just before the detonation one of the 146th's fighters launched a torpedo that appeared to penetrate the battlecruiser's hangar shields, and when we slowed down the recording, the ship appeared to explode from her inside-out."  
  
Haas nodded. He couldn't argue with the man's assessment or the evidence, and he had seen some strange things happen in combat, some of which turned the tide of an engagement. "Very well. Find out who those pilots were and tell my chief of staff for Personell to put in some reccommendations. That fighter jock deserves the Hero of the Republic for this, and a Senate Cross for the rest of the squadron. What's the situation with the fleet?"  
  
Non Niem, a Sullistan staff member, began to report. "Admiral sir, we have recieved status reports from all squadron and task force commanders, and are assigning task forces of repair and replinishment ships to the most seriously damaged vessels. Preliminary estimates suggest our combat capability is down to forty percent, possibly sixty percent with another forty-eight hours for repairs."  
  
Haas swore. "They hurt us, and hurt us badly. If they send in another fleet, it'll mean serious trouble. Operations, deploy the least damaged of our cruisers between the transports and the enemy's last exit vector, and get me as many frigates as you can scrape together to cover our cripples. Secondly, we're going to have bad news for Organa. Tell him he's on his own for now, we don't have the ships to spare for ground support."  
  
"Sir," a young communications officer said, "we're getting transmissions from several understrength fighter squadrons whose home vessels have been destroyed. Many are damaged and low on fuel."  
  
Haas turned to face the young Lieutenant. "Have our fighter controllers sort this out, most heavily damaged ships getting first priority."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
Haas turned to the Victory's commander. "What's our own fighter compliment, Captain?"  
  
"We've lost nearly half, Admiral. We can take on several of the half- squadrons, more if we reconfigure our main hangar space."  
  
Haas nodded. "Good. Do it."  
  
"Admiral, we're getting a transmission from one of the Freedom's squadrons."  
  
"So they did make it. Excellent. I want to talk to the squadron leader personally. Give them immediate clearance for pickup."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Haas turned to his Intelligence Chief. "I'm ordering your men to have first priority on any prisoners or material we recover from the enemy ships. I want them to go through any vessels centimeter-by-centimeter and prepare a full report. We haven't seen the last of them, and I'll be damned if our men have to do this again without a better picture of enemy capabilities..."  
  
**  
  
The explosions continued to pummel the beachhead, throwing sand, equipment, and bodies dozens of meters into the air...and then, as suddenly as it had erupted, the succession of impacting rounds fell silent. However, the volume of fire from the entrenched Mandalorians holding the ridgeline failed to diminish in intensity.  
  
Obi-Wan huddled in a shell crater with the rest of the Naboo battallion's headquarters staff.  
  
"We didn't expect this kind of artillery fire, Ma'am," Major Daltra, the unit's intelligence officer, said.  
  
"I know, Major. It looks like heavy field guns, they could be anywhere within several dozen kilometers from here. If the enemy concealed them well enough or moved them before the assault, our intel could have missed them. Fleet may have just taken them out."  
  
"Good they seem to be supporting us for a change. That bombardment barely scratched their defenses."  
  
Padme nodded and switched her comlink channel. "Lieutenant Tinaka, status report." After a moment's silence, she repeated the transmission, and then turned towards her staff officers. "No word from the Corellians. The engineers are ahead and to our left, but I can't raise them on the comm. It looks like we are going to have to take the objective ourselves."  
  
"But that's madness," Daltra said, taking out a map flimsy and unfolding it on the ground below. He pointed to the objective, a narrow outjutting section of ridge covered with several bunkers. "This terrain gives us no cover. We have almost two kilometers of open ground to traverse under fire from their heavy repeaters. We have no weapons heavy enough to suppress their defenses while we advance, no help from the Fleet, and no air support. You're talking about suicide."  
  
Padme cut him off. "I am aware of the difficulties, Major. However, it remains that unless we secure our objective," she said, pointing to the map, "any force trying to secure the main road is going to come under enfilading fire from here, as well as to their front" she explained, indicating the section of ridge. "If we don't take our objective, there is no way we are going to get that road opened. We have an engineer platoon capable of taking down those bunkers, but we need to re-establish contact."  
  
Obi-Wan, who had been silent, spoke up.  
  
"I'll go."  
  
Padme looked at him, surprised. "I need you here, Major Kenobi, and you have a good chance of getting killed if you break cover."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "You're right. But I'm the "extra man" on your staff, and I have a functioning comlink. I can go forward and find out what the situation is and report back. And you're forgetting, Ma'am, that I'm a Jedi. I won't be an easy target for those bunker gunners."  
  
"Very well. I may not like it, but we are short on options at the moment."  
  
**  
  
"They're murdering us out here. Let's move inland and get murdered."  
  
-Col. Charles Canham, Omaha Beach, Normandy, June 6, 1944  
  
Obi-Wan shot upward, feet propelled by the impromptu stirrups formed by the cupped hands of two of the enlisted men serving as the headquarter's security detail.  
  
He advanced at a crouch toward a wrecked assault transport perhaps fifty meters ahead and to his right. As he ran, blaster fire kicked up the sand around him, gathering in intensity. He made himself a hard target, taking an erratic course, and staying as low as possible. HE halted a moment later after diving behind the assault transport's shattered, blackened stern, and heard the sound of blaster bolts hitting against the metal hull. Slowly, he made his way down the angled starboard side of the shuttle, still under the hull's cover and protection. He peered around the charred cockpit, careful not to touch the still-hot surface, and spied his destination - a small shell crater about three hundred meters away. A short distance, unless one happened to be crossing an open area covered by hostile repeating blasters. He calmed himself, reaching into the Force to steady his nerves and rapidly- beating heart. His right hand went to his lightsaber, the blaster pistol useless at long range. He took several deep breaths and counted to ten, then broke cover in a dead run.  
  
**  
  
"Jedi!" the Lieutenant shouted, seeing the glow of the lightsaber move along the ground ahead. "Concentrate your fire!"  
  
The gunner traversed his weapon in obedience, lining up the sights. His gun had reaped a rich harvest among the enemy soldiers foolish enough to attempt an advance, and pinning down those huddling in shell craters. Not a single bunker had been damaged by the enemy so far, and it seemed as if he could hold out indefinitely.  
  
He lined up the Jedi in his sights and squeezed off a burst. Sand fountained upwards from the rounds, which fell short, obscuring the man, the glow of the saber was dimly visible, still moving. The gunner swore and fired again, closer this time, yet was amazed when the figure stopped and deflected two of the bolts with his blade.  
  
"Oh, you're going to die, Jedi," the gunner snarled, opening fire again, but his target had dissappeared. He could no longer see the saber glow, only the sprawled shapes of bodies in the maroon Naboo uniforms. He began working the bodies over...perhaps the Jedi was among them, or was using them for cover. However, more fountains of sand from the other weapons rose, obscuring his line of sight once again. The gunner fired several short bursts aimed randomly, hoping to pin the Jedi down, if not kill him.  
  
There! The man broke cover again, running toward a nearby crater at a speed which could not quite be described as possible for a human. He fired off a few short bursts before his target reached cover.  
  
I'll be waiting when you advance, Jedi scum, he said to himself.  
  
**  
  
Obi-Wan slid down into the crater, or rather, jumped and landed hard on his rear after a brief slide down the sandy, sloping walls.  
  
Several engineers, a squad of them, had found shelter there. The men looked, startled to see Obi-Wan's arrival in their impromptu shelter.  
  
"Major, sir," one man said, Obi Wan saw from his shoulder insignia that he was the platoon sergeant.  
  
"Where's your Lieutenant?"  
  
The man gestured towards the far edge of the crater. A man with a corpse- pale face, covered with beaded sweat, huddled, shaking violently, sitting upright and clasping knees to his chest.  
  
"He's not wounded, Major, but he's...well, lost his nerves. He won't listen to anyone, just stares at them. Cracked up," the man went on, "he saw half a squad torn to pieces by a single shell, Sir, and his comlink stopped a blaster bolt that knocked him flat." The man's tone carried a hint of sympathy for his young platoon leader - "I've seen combat before, and let me tell you, it ain't pretty. This is the worst I've ever seen, and I've seen good men in training come apart in combat a lot less severe than this."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "So the platoon is yours, now. I've come forward to re- establish communications with Batallion. The Colonel says we're going to have to take the bunkers ourselves, and your men will be the tip of the saber."  
  
The sergeant nodded. "Tell her we'll be ready. What's the plan?"  
  
Obi-Wan reached for his comlink. "Colonel, this is Major Kenobi. I've reached the Engineers. The platoon sergeant has command now. What are your orders?"  
  
Padme replied moments later. "Glad you made it, Major. If we can approach under cover, we can reach the ridge below the trenches. They will not be able to depress the guns far enough to hit us. In ten minutes, I will order the mortars to fire smoke..."  
  
Obi-Wan listened, then passed word to the sergeant, who in turn contacted his squad leaders. All around him, men readied weapons and explosives for a headlong, possibly suicidal charge.  
  
** 


End file.
